


What I Didn't Do

by GarrulousParakeet



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Character Death, Dystopia, F/M, Friendship, Intense, Moral Grayness, Romance, Struggle, Truth, long term angst with a pay off, possible major character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 17:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 91,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7942192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarrulousParakeet/pseuds/GarrulousParakeet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicholas Wilde is to be put to death in just under half an hour for a crime he may or may not have committed. He fully intended on dying today, but a certain rabbit he knew had a habit of upsetting his plans.</p><p>Or:</p><p>Learning to trust your loved ones despite the circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. She Hates Me (And Other Half-Truths)

**Author's Note:**

> Before we begin, can I ask you a question? Do you believe it’s possible to rebuild something which was once perfect? Something which had once amounted to all you could ask for in life? Personally, I’m not so sure, but some mammals have been known to try.

_The glyph ~~~ is used here to denote “flashback” sequences. When you see the ~~~, a flashback has begun, not a simple scene transition (which are denoted by the glyph: …). The flash back ends when you see ~~~ again. Remember these rules so as to avoid confusion. Happy Reading!_

_..._

 

His claws lifted the cigarette to his muzzle, the fox taking a long, drawn out drag of what might have been his coffin nail had he not been dying in just a few short minutes anyways. Slumping back against the concrete wall of his cell, he massaged his temples with his free paw, his chest heaving shakily as he let out another sigh. Drawing the cigarette from his mouth, Nick flicked its ashes onto the dirty cell floor.

Didn’t think he would be picking up _this_ habit again, but it helped with the nerves.

The russet-toned vulpine looked down at the dinner tray sitting next to him in his shoddy prison bed, and dipped his index claw into the mushy slop that he was offered. He took his time drawing the gunk up to his face, examining the paste now resting on his fingertips before removing his cigarette and gingerly popping his finger into his mouth.

_Mashed potatoes…I think?_

_Well,_

So much for his “last meal”. Whatever the chef had thrown onto his tray couldn’t _honestly_ be considered food, and Nicholas Wilde was anything but a dishonest fox. He made a mental note to file a complaint later that day.

_Oh wait._

He rolled his eyes at no one in particular. Five years ago- when he was first placed here- the food for death row inmates was _probably_ edible. Over the years, the city prison had progressively transformed into the ramshackle penitentiary it is today.

To be perfectly honest with you, the fox couldn’t tell you if death row was actually a prison block when he first arrived. The guards and various other staff members who roamed the halls of the slammer would be quick to inform you that yes, execution _was_ and _had been_ a punishment for the more heinous crimes perpetrated in Zootopia, but the first Nick had ever heard of it was when the note reading: “ _Life in prison without Parole re-sentenced to Capital Punishment_ ” was delivered to his cell without so much as another hearing.

Apparently, a lot of other mammals received similar treatment. Their sentences were harshened- sometimes dramatically- and while each and every one of them was quick to complain, nobody received a retrial.

The only thing to be found was a few more years tacked onto their sentence, or in the worst case scenario, death.

It was a bum deal.

Nick took another puff of his cigarette.

It seemed as though the inmates of the Zootopian City Prison simply ceased to exist in the minds of the general population. No one cared enough to protest what was going on inside these concrete barriers. Whatever this was, an oversight in the law or a drastic miscarriage of justice, it has already claimed the lives of some of the other mammals Nick had the pleasure of acquainting himself with in his cell block.

That odd-ball little hamster, what was his name? _Terry?_ He was a nice guy, pleasingly plump and always quick to crack a joke. But, when the gerbil walked down that dirty mile, bespeckled with grime and gum and who knows what else, he never did come back.

 A bum deal.

Then there was Old Joe, that crazy fox. Nick had taken a liking too that guy. The blond vulpine took the younger fox under his wing during his earlier years at the penitentiary, but sort of lost his mind when his letter came in. The poor bastard had a daughter, Angela, in her early twenties. He was awfully proud of her, and the thought of having his life cut short before he got to see what she could really amount to tore him apart. He had been a well-trusted mechanic in Savanna central before he was arrested, which was not an easy feat to accomplish as a fox. Entrusting your valuables to what is widely considered the “sneakiest” and “least trustworthy” species in Zootopia was an act that didn’t come easy to most mammals in the city, but he managed to win them over. He taught his girl everything he knew, and she took over the family business the week of his imprisonment.

She was destined for some great things- he assured everyone- and he never got the chance to see any of it.

_A bum deal._

The fox nervously nipped at his long black claws before sticking his smoke back in his mouth.

Of course he couldn’t forget about Mike. Good things always came in threes, didn’t they? He wasn’t very fond of the burly leopard when they first met, seeing as the guy _did_ try to kill him within the first hour of introducing himself. But angry outbursts aside, he was a pretty decent friend.

Nick would love to chalk his sentencing up to “A bum deal”, but in all honesty, Zootopia was probably better off without that maniac out on the streets.

Didn’t really call for execution, but the fox wasn’t a judge.

Clearly.

He wrapped his arms around his knees and shivered, still sitting up in bed. City management ceased payment for the climate control system in the prison a few years back, so the dimly lit halls are allowed to ebb with the bitter cold that the winter months brought with them.

To tell you the truth, ever since the new mayor stepped into office, the governments been blamed for a lot of the shit that goes down in this hellhole.

Preferring to avoid working out during yard time, Nick would often find himself playing poker with his fellow inmates. Consequently, he was privy to the ramblings of the other prisoners, each and every one of them certain that there was some conspiracy going on amongst the higher-ups in Zootopia. The exact details would vary depending on who you asked, but most would agree that the governmental body of the city was plotting something. A nefarious something, bent on destroying the lives of those least among the city dwellers: the convicts.

Maybe they were right.

His train of thought was interrupted by the loud, confident footsteps of a familiar prison guard. As he rounded the corner, the gray canine took a moment to adjust his uniform, smoothing out any wrinkles before approaching Nick’s cell, leaning up against the bars smugly.

_It was his_ _good pal: Officer Albus_.

“Hey Princess, you doing ok?” he asked, a wicked, toothy grin spreading across tundra wolf’s sharp features as he spoke.

Nick politely returned the smile before flicking the butt of his cigarette at the officer’s ugly mug. The wolf flinched slightly as the stub struck him, shaking his head before settling back into forced genial eye contact with the fox.

“Ten minutes and we start walking.” Albus informed the prisoner as he rapped his claws against the steel bars which caged Nick in. “Ten minutes”

“Yeah?” the fox replied, feigning surprise. “Fuck off.” As he spoke, he tossed the tray of slop the guard’s way, slathering his police blues in the inedible drek.

The wolf hissed and cursed under his breath, angrily wiping the muck off of himself, eventually giving up as he realized that he wasn’t about to get the foul substance off the front of his uniform any time soon. For a moment, it looked like the gray lupine would kill Nick himself, but he quickly regained control, paws contorting into fists at his sides again.

“Nine minutes.”

“Uh huh.”

“7:00 pm.”

“Yeah.”

“When the yard bell rings three times, we start walking.” He turned as if he was going to leave, only to stop abruptly.

 “Oh, and I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you to the electrician. Let him know that you’d like a slow roast today.” With his closing statement, he was off.

Probably to change clothes.

The fox snickered to himself. _See you in a few, buddy_.

…

Ignoring the mess now dripping down his cell bars- it was somebody else’s job to clean that up- he slid a paw under his bed sheet, fumbling around for something. Probably took him a few minutes. Whatever time spent, however, was immediately made worth it when he found what he was looking for. With a satisfied grin on his face, the fox reclined back on the stony bed he was given to sleep on, staring bright eyed at the lovely photograph he now held.

It was a picture of him and his partner the day he graduated from the police academy.

He lightly tapped the photo a few times with an extended claw before flipping it over, reading the dainty cursive some bunny scribbled across the back.

“Nick and Judy”

A heart with a tail trailing beneath it was doodled in pink marker next to the writing.

Most every inmate in his cell block had something to latch onto which gave them the strength to carry on. For some it was simple, fluffy thoughts of their darling families. Thoughts of their Kits snuggled up, warm in bed. Thoughts of a lover. Thoughts that maybe _someday_ they would receive a letter granting some sort of reprieve.

_Nick’s_ mind flooded with thoughts of the dumb bunny who stood next to him in the photograph. The way she proudly pinned that polished, _new_ badge on his untrimmed chest that day. He thought of that persistent glimmer in her eye that seemed to say “You made it, what took you so long?”

He thought of the secrets she told him during their late night stakes that never went anywhere early on in their partnership- she slept with a stuffed bunny up until the day she moved out of her parents burrow- and that solemn wish that burned in his chest those nights: that nothing _would_ happen so that he could sit there with her for the rest of the evening, content to listen to her stories.

The way she let him curl himself around her during their movie nights, keeping her safe and warm _and near him_ just like his mother would when he was a young kit.

Things friends do, ya know?

It was thoughts of her that granted him rest when he thought it would never come. Memories of her annoyingly cheerful voice lulled him to sleep as he laid his head against that old wooden board the prison staff called a “pillow”.

Thoughts of how- come hell or high water- the invigorating little bunny would take him by the paw and pull him through even the shittiest of situations. So why should he give up here?

He let his head fall back against the concrete wall behind him and his mind fall back into dreamy memories of years past.

~~~

“You know, they taste a lot better if you savor them.”

The gray rabbit gagged and leaned over the side of the couch, retching terribly as she did.

“I’m not so sure I-“she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence, leaning back over the sofa to try to cough up the bug legs she was certain were wiggling on their own, striving to crawl up her throat, unable to choke them down.

“Why-“

The fox grinned, picking at his salad as the two watched the news in the Z.P.D break room together.  

“Why did I ever agree to this?” she finally managed to squeeze the words out between heaves.

“A deals a deal, I try a plate of these ‘mixed greens’ and you eat a beetle burger.” His tone of voice gave the impression that he thought that somehow the two meals were comparable.

“I thought you would hate the salad!” she choked out. “You don’t even _like_ vegetables, this isn’t _fair_!”

“Quid pro quo Carrots, if I finish this salad, then you have that _entire burger_ to look forward to” he nodded towards the half eaten burger currently sitting on the coffee table. “So quit gabbing and get chewing.” His paw gently patted the rabbit’s knee, her legs draped over his lap as they sat together on the couch.

“I’m _never_ doing anything like this again.” The bunny moaned, reaching for her burger.

“I don’t know, it wasn’t that bad.”

“You liked the salad?” Judy asked, an eyebrow raised.

The fox shook his head as he poked at the leaves on his plate. “No, it was pretty bad.”

“Then-“

“I guess sometimes it’s the company that makes the meal.” The fox stood up, turning the break room television off. “C’mon, we best get going. We’ve got things to do today.”

~~~

Nick looked to the tray of mash potatoes he had thrown to the floor minutes earlier as he thought thoughts that he will never get the chance to think again.

The bell tolled its three chimes.

…

“Ol’ doll face tells me that those bastards out on the eastern continent are at it again.” The raccoon rested his head in his arms as he leaned back in bed, talking to his cellmate.

“Yeah, my girl wrote me saying that they’re causing trouble all across Zootopia! Freaks are what they is.” The moose replied, sitting up in his own bed across from the raccoon.

“Heard they got some species over there that can _transform_ even!” the raccoon raised his voice, clearly a little excited.

“Yeah?”

“ _Yeah!_ Call em ‘Camelias’ or sumin.” The raccoon continued.

“Eh, I think that’s a load of shit. Mayors pullin one over on us again.” The moose reasoned.

“I don’t know man, my buddy on the outside says they can change colors and all that. If they can transform, ya know, become anythin’, then they could be right under our noses and we won’t even know! Hell, _you_ could be a camelia!”

“Hey,” the moose pointed a hoof towards the ringtail, “I ain’t _no camelia.”_

The raccoon got out of bed, walking over to the bars of their cell to look down the cell block.

“Hey, Ed! I said I _ain’t no camelia_!”

“ _Shhhh,_ shut the _fuck_ up man!” the raccoon scolded in a hushed voice.

The moose got up to join his cellmate, peering down the hallway.

“That Nick?”

“Yeah, looks like todays the big day…” the smaller of the two mammals replied.

“Shit…”

They watched as the large tundra wolf escorted him out of his cell. The rest of the block caught on rather quickly, hundreds of concerned faces pressed against their respective bars. There was no kicking and screaming, as was known to happen on days like this. The fox walked out as calm and composed as he had walked in five years ago.

“Well, you’re looking nice! What’s this?” Albus gestured down to Nick’s pant leg. A slit ran down it starting at his knee, exposing the shaved fur underneath. “Is that how the kids are wearing it nowadays?” the other officers sent to escort the fox laughed uproariously.

“Yeah, it is pretty slick ain’t it?” The fox replied without missing a beat. “Thinking of adopting the look yourself?”

Cries of “Atta boy Nick!” and “Give em hell!” echoed throughout the prison block. Bars rattled violently as the other inmates watched the fox speak with the jailers, only calming down when the other guards made their rounds and silenced them.

Once the shouting ceased, the cruel wolf smiled before grabbing the fox by the collar.

“No, I think it suits you better. You’ve earned the right to wear it. After what you did, I’m surprised it took you this long to get the chance to try it out.” The guard’s fellow officers encircled the fox and, once their formation was settled upon, started the slow walk down the dimly lit hallway which seemed to span an immeasurable distance.

But it wasn’t immeasurable, it was a mile.

And whatever it was that sat at the end of the mile would serve as the last place he saw before he departed.

Maybe it was all for the best. He always likened prison life to living inside a fishbowl. Exposed and on display for all to see. It didn’t sit well with him.

“I’m obligated to ask.” Officer Albus spoke up as they continued their march through the hall. “Mr. Wilde, do you have any final requests?”

The fox pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling as they walked, clearly mulling an idea over in his head.

“Mmm, I might.”

“And what would that be?”

“ _Well_ , this is sort of embarrassing, but…” his voice trailed off as he spoke.

“Spit it out fox, or you can forget about it.” The words dripped from the wolf’s mouth with a certain poison that was reserved only for prisoners who really irked him.

“Well, I’m a bit nervous when it comes to _new experiences_. Do you… think you could hold my hand when the executioner flips the switch?” he joked as they continued their steady pace.

The other officers weren’t nearly as amused as the fox had been.

“Eat shit, Wilde.”

_Tough crowd._

The group of guards and a no-good fox continued to make their way down the hall. They kept a slow, plodding pace. It was scarier this way. Gives you time to think about what you did before your trip to that undiscovered country.

One foot in front of the other, they fell into a rhythm. The guards held him tight, leaving no wiggle room. His thoughts wandered to his only safe haven.

~~~

“Carry me.”

“ _Fat chance_.”

“C’mon, I carry you _all the time”_ the fox whined as the two walked the boulevard.

The two were carless, and they had quite the walk ahead of them. Their patrol car was to be returned at the end of the day, every day, and while they usually had some other mode of transportation, the buses aren’t running today and Judy’s truck is in the shop.

So they walked.

“It’s fine for _you_ to carry _me_ , I’m small. Compact. Like lifting a grocery bag. Watch, pick me up and I’ll show you.”

“What!? _No_! I can barely carry _myself_!” Nick explained.

“Nick…” Judy leaned up against him as he walked, resting her head on his side.

With a huff, the fox scooped her up into his arms, cradling her like he would his bride.

“Guess I’ll do the walking for the _both_ of us then.”

“Mmm…” The rabbit sighed happily, nuzzling the underside of his muzzle.

And he did.

He walked them all the way home.

~~~

“Uh, Albus! Ah- Officer Albus!” Nick heard a voice call out behind them, its owner clearly out of breath. He bent his neck at an awkward angle to see who it was, but the officers holding him made a point to keep him facing forward as they walked. Straining, he managed to catch a glimpse of the mammal behind him, most notably his fluffy white wool.

It was a ram.

“The warden sent for you Albus” the mammal panted as he spoke. “He’s on the phone.”

“He can wait.” The wolf grunted through gritted teeth.

“No, no…” The poor guy couldn’t catch his breath. “This can’t wait.”

The gray wolf snarled at the ram and, begrudgingly, released Nick’s jumpsuit collar. He quickly turned around and began walking; the walk wearily transforming into a jog down the length of the mile in an effort to get to the nearest phone.

Nick called out to the guard as he made his way down the empty hall. “Hey! Don’t keep me waiting pal! I’ve got stuff to do today!”

…

“May I take your coat ma’am?” a canine officer asked the short, gray bunny as she hurriedly walked into the spacious office, the portly warden of the prison sitting down at a table in the middle of the room .

“No.” she replied briskly, not even sparing a glance at the mammal talking to her, choosing instead to pull her police issued jacket a little tighter around herself as she continued to walk to her seat.

“Officer Hopps, I’m so glad you could-“

“Save the formalities Mr. Tull, you’ve kept me waiting long enough.” The rabbit admonished the prison warden, folding her paws in front of herself as she sat down. “Will you hear my proposal?”

“I… Yes, I suppose, but you have to understand Mrs.-“

“Wilde would be an invaluable asset to the Z.P.D’s current investigation-“

“Yes, I understand, but-“

“Don’t cut me off, _sir_.” The rabbit paused as the prison bell tolled three chimes. “We don’t have much time. I request that you release him into my custody as soon as possible.” The rabbit continued, her voice pointed and curt.

“Ma’am excuse me, but do you know what you’re getting yourself into?” the warden asked, startled by her forwardness.

“Mr. Wilde was my partner, I know how the fox ticks. I can handle this.”

“Let’s just… settle down. Can I get you anything?” the lynx quickly interjected.

“Grant Nicholas Wilde a stay of execution.”

“But-“

“We need him. We both know he’s had a personal connection with Koslov in the past. If we have any chance of finding the bear, it’s through the fox.”

The warden’s personal assistant, a white ram, shifted uncomfortably behind him.

“You know it’s no small favor to give custody of a death row inmate to his former _partner_.” the lynx adjusted himself in his seat, the rabbits restless eyes trained on him.

“My supervisor contacted you, did he not?” the gray rabbit inquired, retaining her coarse tone of voice.

The prison warden nodded sheepishly.

“Then you understand the gravity of this situation.”

“Officer Hopps, you of all people know that this fox is… difficult to work with. What if he refuses to cooperate?” The lynx tugged his collar as he spoke, somehow managing to break a sweat despite the chilled room leaving a frigid ache in the rabbit’s bones.

“Then make him an offer!” the bunny rose up from her seat as she shouted. “I don’t care about the specifics, stop his execution before it’s too late!”

Despite her small size, both the warden and his P.A were taken aback by the bunny’s outburst. The lynx continued to pull at his collar, loosening his tie slightly. He took a moment to recompose himself.

“What would you recommend?” he asked.

“Reduce his sentence, take him off of death row. Give him life for all I care, but we need him _alive_.” Her eyes darted to the clock as she spoke. She was getting anxious now.

“Officer Hucklesby.”

The ram startled as he heard his name called. He stood at attention as the lynx’s chair swiveled around so that the two could meet eye to eye.

“Run and get me Officer Albus on line one.”

The ram’s mouth dropped open in awe for a moment, only picking itself back up when he noticed the piercing looks he was receiving from both rabbit and lynx. “Bu-but he’s on his way to the execution chamber right now!” The warden gave a slight nod. “That’s half way across the prison!”

“ _So go_!” the bunny rose from her seat again as she shouted, urgently slamming her foot down.

Without another word the ram turned-tail and ran out of the room, sprinting off to what the rabbit officer presumed to be the halls leading up to the death chamber. Part of her wondered why the warden didn’t go himself, but a single look at the mammal would tell even the least observant of officers that he wasn’t in any shape to be running across the prison.

That ram better make it time.

Hell has no fury like the scorn of Judith Hopps.

…

“Back so soon?” the fox mocked the wolf officer slowly approaching them. Something was bothering the guy, it was written all over his face. Nick didn’t know just what _was_ discussed over that phone call, but whatever it was, it had the prison guard fuming. His stare bore into the fox, a livid fire burning in his eyes. He wanted to kill him so bad he could _taste it_.

“There’s…been a change in plans.” The wolf could hardly speak through his gritted teeth. A confused countenance quickly replaced Nick’s usual smug, “devil-may-care” visage. The wolf turned to the surrounding officers, “We’ve got orders to take the prisoner to the warden’s office.” He motioned back the way they came.

Though it was clear that none of the guards were very fond of the idea, they started the march back down the hall. Whatever was awaiting the fox at the end of the mile was going to have to wait.

…

The group continued down the unkempt halls of the prison in an uncomfortable silence, passing through cell blocks Nick had never been through. They were all just as unsightly as the ones he had come to know, but the change of scenery was welcome. Despite this concrete building serving as his home for the last few years, there was still so much of it left unexplored. Too bad he wouldn’t ever get the chance.

Or would he? Was that whole “execution” thing still on for today? He had to ask.

“Hey, Albus?”

The wolf clenched his paw into a fist, resisting the urge to strike the fox.

“What?”

Nick cleared his throat before continuing. “Why is it that you’re taking me to the warden’s office anyways?” He waited for an answer, but the lupine seemed to be ignoring him.

_Why does this guy have such a sour attitude?_

_“Hey-“_ the fox stopped himself mid-sentence as the wolf halted, and, turning the doorknob to the room labeled “Warden’s Office”, motioned for everyone to enter.

The office was large, and a whole lot cleaner than the rest of the prison. Nick couldn’t help but stare at the pristinely polished table at which the large lynx sat, his eyes widening in awe. He knew it was silly to react this way, but it had been so long since he had seen furniture so immaculately clean he-

_Wait, what’s that smell?_

_That’s… really nice._

_Like, that is one sweet scent._

“Mr. Wilde, please take a seat.” The warden spoke, ignoring the amazed look on the fox’s face.

“O-of course…” Nick’s voice was uncharacteristically unsteady. He slowly ambled over to the chair across from the large cat, cautiously pulling it out before sitting down, paws sat politely on his lap. Almost immediately, he felt the urge to sniff around further. His nostrils flared slightly, his snout twitching despite his better judgment.

Keep it together Wilde.

_But what is that heavenly smell?_

You’re a cool customer fox, act like it.

_It smells like… home?_

The warden was starting to stare.

_So good…_

Unable to resist the instinctual desire to smell his surroundings further, Nick turned around to sniff the back of the chair he had been sitting in. Whoever sat here last was wearing a _nice_ perfume. Was it even a perfume? Is it possible that some mammals _just smelled this way_? His eyes dilated as he took in the rapturous scent.

Everyone watched him as he went to work trying to decide _just what_ the chair smelled like, looks ranging from confused to annoyed painting the faces of the other mammals. All the while, a light snuffling noise could be heard emitting from the foxes nostrils as he continued, ignoring the other animals.

“Ok, I’ll stop you there.” The warden spoke up again, breaking the awkward silence between all parties in the room. The fox turned around again and looked at the lynx attentively. “I called you to my office for a reason.” The fox nodded and took his seat again as the cat continued. “If it weren’t for me, you would either be frying or fried right now.” Nick shrugged his shoulders, nodding again. “So I think the least you can do is listen to me.”

Nick bit his lip, unsure of what to say. “Ok, go on then.”

The warden rubbed his paws together sheepishly. Whatever he was about to say, he wasn’t happy about it. “Your assistance in Z.P.D matters has been requested. If you are cooperative, the court is willing to reduce your sentencing to life with the possibility of parole.”

“Why the fuck would I want that?” the fox replied.

It was as if every animal in the room had been knocked off of their feat.

“Wha- What did you just say?” the warden asked, leaning in and squinting, not sure if he had heard the death row inmate correctly.

“Oh…” he looked ashamed for a moment “Excuse the language, but I don’t understand why I would want to extend my stay here to a permanent one if I have the option to leave now.”

“You… did hear what I said, right? ‘Life with the possibility of parole’?” the lynx reiterated.

“So, life with the slim ‘ _possibility’_ of not being ‘life’? We both know the only parole I’m going to be getting is whatever length of time it takes the Z.P.D to get whatever it is they want out of me. After that, it’s back to jail for this fox. I’m sorry to tell you this, Warden, ‘cause you really are running a tight ship here, but I’ve grown tired of my stay, and I think I would rather take my leave if that’s alright.” After he said his piece, Nick stood up out of his chair. He might have walked away had that divine scent not caught his sensitive nose again.

The lynx capitalized on the moment of hesitation “Mr. Wilde, you’re making a mistake-“

“Warden Tull _please_ , just let the fox go. He’s dug his grave _,_ let him lie in it if he wants to. After what this monster did, I don’t think he deserves a deal. ” Officer Albus interrupted, the furious tone of his voice nearly cutting through the air as he spoke.

“ _Bailey_ , I don’t believe you have any say in the matter.” The warden retorted.

_Wait._

“ _Woah there_ \- hold on, _Bailey_?” Nick allowed himself to slump back into his seat, interested in the conversation once more. “That is the _cutest_ possible name for a mean old prison guard such as yourself…”

“ _Watch it fox_.” The wolf spat back. He might have heard the hushed chuckling and suppressed snorting coming from the other officers had he not been fuming now.

 “That’s enough! Officer Hucklesby, bring Officer Hopps in, maybe she’ll have better luck talking sense to this _thing_.” The lynx spoke up.

Nick’s cackling quieted almost as quickly as the ram had left the noisy room. “Officer _who_?”

…

As the door opened and the gray bunny slowly stepped into the room, the fox’s head went dizzy. It felt like his stomach had swallowed itself several times over. The aromatic scent from before was overpowering now, and he finally understood what it was. A grey fuzzy angel had descended from heaven and was here to save him.

His partner had come back.

“Mr. Wilde-“she started.

“Fine.” He interrupted.

“Excuse me?” the warden asked.

“I’ll aid in whatever the Z.P.D needs me for.” He reiterated.

The rabbit and the warden shared an understanding glance, a nod exchanged between the two.

“I’m glad you see it our way.” The lynx rose from his chair and began to walk towards the door. “I’ll need you both to come with me then.”

As Nick followed the warden, and more importantly, the bunny, out the door, he turned back to take another look at the prison guard who had tormented him for these last few years. His face had contorted into a snarl. He seemed to be wishing the fox all the worst.

_Fuck em._

The fox continued out the door and down the corridor, trailing closely behind the other two mammals. They didn’t speak a word, each one of them focused on the task at hand. Warden Tull was intent on finding the room he was looking for. Officer Hopps was concentrating on keeping up with the warden. Nick’s attention was focused on the subtle way the rabbit’s tail would twitch occasionally as she walked, just like it had all those years ago. How long had it been? Five years? It felt like a millennia, but here they were, together again. She came back for him. Even after everything that happened. After his name was pulled through the mud. His reputation ruined. Judy Hopps still cared enough to come back for him. Sure, it took her long enough, but all that really matters now is that she is here for him.

Again.

Like the good old days.

The three mammals finally came to a stop in front of the locker room. Nick and Judy stood behind the warden as he fumbled with his keys, trying to find the correct one for this particular door.

“We’ve gone through the trouble of setting out civilian clothes for you, Mr. Wilde. Change and then come back out.” Nick nodded as the warden spoke, almost pushing past him to get into the room. The lynx stuck out an arm to prevent the fox from entering “Be quick about it.” And with that, he let him pass.

Walking inside inside, and taking care to close the door behind him, Nick took note of the set of clothes sitting on one of the wooden benches that lined the aisles of lockers before examining the room further. It was a locker room like any other. But despite all of its simplicity, he felt himself drawn back to the days where he himself had served as an officer. The Z.P.D building had their own locker rooms, not unlike this one.

The fox raked his claws against one of the stainless steel lockers and his ears perked up at the familiar, hollow sound that reverberated around the quiet room. He always _did_ hate the clanking noise the lockers would make whenever he and his fellow officers closed them after they took their things out. It grated against his nerves and gave him a headache. But, it’s not so bad once you go five years without hearing it. In fact, a lot of the little things that used to bug him don’t seem all that bad anymore. Maybe it would be kind of nice to be forced to deal with the little things again.

Like losing the remote to the television, or biting into a sour piece of fruit. Maybe being unable to find a cell-phone signal no matter how hard he tried? Hell, getting dragged around the city by a rabbit who would likely get the both of them killed, or even dealing with slow apartment wi-fi sounds like a good time nowadays.

Yeah, he’d have to try a few of those things again if he ever gets the chance.

Wait.

Wasn’t he supposed to be “quick about it”? The wardens probably livid with him right now. He’ll just say he takes a while getting dressed. Judy would vouch for him. Years ago, on the day he was supposed to take her to the Z.P.D ball, they were twenty minutes late because he couldn’t button his suit up without her help, so she knows he’s a mess when it comes to things like this.

So yeah.

He can take his time.

No rush.

It really isn’t that big of a deal.

Just new clothes.

The fox cautiously picked up the garments and turned them around in his paws. They definitely felt a lot nicer than the prison uniform he was used to wearing. He unfolded the shirt and held it out in front of himself, examining the piece of cloth. It’s a blue t-shirt. A really dark blue at that. Alright, he can make this work. He unfolded the pants he had been provided.

Cargo shorts in a nasty, brownish color.

_Tacky._

_Just the way he liked it._

He shot a look in the direction of the door, just to make sure no one was peaking in, and stripped off his orange jumpsuit, carelessly throwing it on top of the wooden bench where his new clothes had previously sat. It felt weird to be wearing civilian’s clothes, but it made him feel like a brand new fox, and though there was no mirror in the room to confirm his suspicions, he was pretty sure he was looking _pretty hot_.

If he could find himself a nice place to get his fur trimmed, he would be a regular ladies-

_Knock Knock_

“Coming! I’m almost done, just give me a second!” he called towards the door, now frantically trying to put his shoes back on. After standing up, he quickly checked the back of his shirt for the tag- just to be sure he didn’t put it on inside out- balled up his jumpsuit and rushed out the door back into the hallway.

A hallway which held one more mammal than he had recalled.

“Glad to see you could make it, Mr. Wilde” the warden said, taking the orange jumpsuit from the fox.

“Of… course?” Nick turned to meet a bison who hadn’t been there before. He must have arrived while he was changing. The large bull gingerly tapped on a slim, black case he carefully held in his hooves. “What… What’cha got there, fella?” Nick asked.

“Turn around.” Was his only response. The fox looked to the rabbit and the lynx for support, but was met with blank stares.

“ _Ahem_ -” he cleared his throat. ”Ok…” Turning his back to the bison, he listened as the container was opened, and its contents- whatever they may be- were retrieved.

“So what exactly does this thing do?” Judy asked, her question directed towards the warden.

“Mmm, I would expect you of all mammals to know, Officer Hopps.” Nick heard the reply, still mentally preparing himself for whatever was about to come.

“Well, I understand the basics, I just don’t really know the specifics…” the fox listened as the rabbit cop quickly tapped her foot while she spoke.

Without warning, he felt the warm hooves of the bull behind him wrap around his neck. It felt like he was going to strangle him. The fox struggled in the larger animal’s hooves for a moment, the bunny and lynx failing to  notice the pain he was in.

“Wait!“ He choked out as the bison continued to go about his work.

“The more you struggle, the worse it will be.” The bison assured him calmly, as if he had done this a hundred times before.

The burly animal was fastening something around the fox’s neck, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Nick’s mind was racing with possibilities, it was cold and almost metallic, but it seemed to have plastic bits to its make. Whatever it was, it felt like it was crushing his wind pipe. The Bison yanked a tag out of the contraption, allowing it to come whirring to life. What could the tag possibly have b-

“Ow!” the fox practically jumped three feet in the air the moment the bull had let go of him. “Fuck, that hurts!” he shouted again, tugging at the collar now fastened tightly around his neck. No matter how hard he tugged on it, the thing wouldn’t budge, instead staying coiled around him. It was like one of those chokers his mother used to wear, except this one fit a little too well.

The warden looked at the fox for a moment, rolling his eyes before returning his gaze to the bunny. “ _As I was saying_ , the Defense Collars are given to all convicts out on parole as a way of keeping the citizens safe. They monitor the mammal’s heart rate and release an electric shock whenever their emotions get... _out of paw_.” He stressed the last three words of his sentence, looking back to the fox for a moment.

Upon hearing this, Nick slowed his breathing, trying his best to remain calm. He focused on the conversation Judy was having with the warden. The calm, dignified voice she always used when talking about important matters was soothing. As the frantic, anxious beating in his chest slowed, the random jolts sent through his body became less frequent, eventually stopping all together.

The bison held out his hoove towards the rabbit, a small device resting in it. It looked like the grip to one of the old dart guns they used to hand out to officers on the force.

“And what is this?” the rabbit asked politely, looking up to the bull.

“It’s like a kill switch.” The bison stated matter-of-factly.

“That’s putting it bluntly, but yes. It’s for your own safety, as well as the safety of others.” The lynx chimed in.

“What?” Nick asked.

“What… what does this thing do?” Judy continued.

“In the event of a crisis, and the normal shocks being administered aren’t enough, you can use this to stop him in his tracks _permanently_.” The warden explained.

The rabbit turned to look at the fox, his eyes wide in horror, before looking back at the gadget.

“I doubt we’ll need it.” She stated. Nick smiled.

She swiped it out of his hooves anyways.

“The thing works like your weapon would. Slip your finger through the guard and hold the trigger down for at least two seconds. You’ll get the desired results.” The bison explained.

“We call it the _Fail-Safe_.” The warden chimed in.

“Right, thanks.” She dropped the contraption into her jacket pocket, rubbing her forehead tenderly. “It’s getting late and the rest of my squad is waiting for me outside. We should really get going.

“Right…”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Tull.” She said before turning to walk away.

“Don’t make us regret this decision, Hopps.”

The rabbit continued on her way, slowly making her way down the grimy hallway they had been standing in. Nick turned to look at the warden, unsure if he was really free to go. As if reading his mind, the heavyset lynx nodded, a stern look on his face. The fox didn’t need any further encouragement to turn around and chase after the rabbit, a slight shock coursing through his body as he hurried to catch up to her.

_It’s going to be just like old times again._

She didn’t speak a word as they rounded the corner together, nearly at the entrance to the prison.

A door he hadn’t seen in years.

“Wait, I forgot to ask, do you think this thing is water proof? Like, can I shower with it on?” the fox asked the rabbit, pointing to the collar around his neck with a concerned look on his face.

Judy didn’t say a word, choosing instead to push the door’s to the prison open, the cool night air blowing into the mammal’s faces before the rabbit stepped outside, letting the door slam shut behind her.

Nick straightened his shoulders out and, taking a deep breath, pushed the door opened so that he could join her.

…

Prisoners were allowed an hour outside in the yard every other day, three days a week. While outside, they could lift weights, play baseball or just mingle with the other prisoners who may not be in their cell blocks. The space they were given to do this was limited, as the yard was only seventy and a half feet in length, and three hundred feet and three quarters in width. Towering brick walls with guards threatening to shoot them on the spot should they try anything funny led to very few animals seeing what exactly went on outside the prison.

Out in the front of the old building, where there was only barb wire fences and a roller gate to prevent animals from coming and going as they please, Nick could actually see the world with his own two eyes. He didn’t have to rely on the stories that the “fresh fish”- the newly brought in convicts- would tell. He could plainly see what it all looked like from here.

Or at least the surrounding area.

And it was dull.

The Zootopian City Prison was built in one of the most rural parts of the Zootopia, save for the burrows, and not much had changed over the five years it took him to finally get out. He wasn’t sure what he expected, as it wouldn’t have made much sense for the grasslands he had watched go by as he stared out his window in the prison bus would anything be other than the same grasslands once he left.

Regardless, it felt sort of nice seeing it all again. It was like returning to an old home that was just on the other side of the wall this entire time.

His train of thought was interrupted by a cup that struck him in the head, dousing his face in water. He turned to see two rabbit officers laughing their tails off as they sat on top of the little brick wall which boxed in the parking lot, rambling something to one another about how “The big bad fox wasn’t all that scary after all”. Nick turned to Judy, only to see the female rabbit steaming, her paws bunched up into little fists, her eyes seething with a controlled anger.

Seeing how upset she was, Nick rubbed the nape of his neck and shrugged. “So, um… friends of yours?”

No response.

“Well, at least we know this thing is waterproof, right?” he tapped at his collar as he continued, trying to earn a laugh from the rabbit. Years ago, Judy, seeing that Nick didn’t take the abuse to heart, would probably have chuckled alongside him and talked his ear off about how he didn’t deserve that sort of treatment at a later date.

Today, Judith Hopps rolled up her sleeves and approached the other rabbits.

“Charles.” She spoke the other rabbits name sternly. Apparently, she had seen which one of them had thrown the cup.

“Officer Hopps?” the younger, male rabbit replied, looking down at her with a smug look plastered across his face.

“Come down from that wall.” She ordered.

The bunny gracefully hopped off of the short wall, landing in front of his coworker, his self-satisfied look evolving into a shit-eating grin as he stared at Judy, waiting for another snide comment.

In a singular, quick motion, the female rabbit popped up into the air and kicked the male rabbit to the ground with both of her nimble feet, winding the other officer. She landed back on the ground adeptly, ignoring the stunned gazes of the two other rabbit cops and single fox convict trained on her.

“Now, get back up on that wall and mind your own business. When you see my car pull out to leave, you two will follow me, understand?” Judy explained calmly as Charles nodded his head quickly, taking her paw so that she could help him back onto his feet.

He climbed back up on the wall and watched her walk over to the fox. As they both watched her march away, they muttered something about it “being a miracle ‘Mr. Savage’ can handle her.”

If she heard, she didn’t react.

There was something different about Judy, and Nick couldn’t quite place it until now.

…

The high-pitched squeal of the squad car unlocking rang out into the night, Nick’s cue to get in while Judy finished up some things. He almost didn’t want to go inside if it would mean missing out on all the fresh air. He settled for getting in and rolling the window on his side of the car all the way down, hanging his arm out the window while Judy fumbled around with something in the trunk of the car.

Ok, they’re really doing this. She’s taking him home. He doesn’t know exactly _what_ it is that she needs his help with, but he was willing to do it.

But what if she didn’t _actually need his help_? What if this was all an elaborate plot to finally get him out of prison? Together they would clear his name and eventually go back to living their happy lives together.

As _friends_.

The sound of the car door opening as the little bunny climbed inside immediately pulled him out of his thoughts. His entire body felt hot, as if he were a craftsmen’s son, finally escaping from the maze like Labyrinth.

Soaring on angel wings.

The warm, inviting sun at his side.

How did that story go again?

Whatever, everything was wonderful and he felt _free_ and… and _warm_. He didn’t speak a word as she reached into her bag and pulled out a small prescription pill vial, withdrawing a few capsules from inside before swallowing the medication with a swig from the water cup that was sitting in the cup holder next to him. He wordlessly watched as she continued to dig around in her bag, her little nose twitching in the most charming _, familiar_ manner one could imagine as she searched for whatever she was looking for. He patiently waited for her to find what she was looking for as he sat in anticipation, all the things he’s been waiting to tell her resting on the tip of his tongue.

Whatever she was looking for, she didn’t find it. Which was his cue to speak.

But where to start? He figured it’s best to open with a simple thank you.

“Carrots, I-“

He had leaned forward to latch on to her in a tight hug, their first in a long time, but something had stopped him.

_Her expression, it was-_

“J-Judy?” he asked, his emerald eyes staring into the frightened amethyst of her own. The look on her face was one of shock mixed with a slight horror. She winced as if she expected him to pounce on her. He locked eyes with her for a while, the two mammals breathing heavily with their faces only inches away from one another. It wasn’t until he looked down that his own face adopted the same, horrified expression.

The rabbit’s finger was slipped through the trigger guard of the Fail-Safe device, ready to press it down at a moment’s notice.

The fox slowly slumped back into his seat. As he calmly placed his paws onto his lap, Judy eased off of the trigger, setting the device on her knee. Neither of the two could bring themselves to look the other in the eyes.

“Wilde…”

“It’s Nick…Judy… _it’s Nick_.” He raised a shaky paw to his muzzle, stroking the area under his eye tenderly as if he was wiping away a tear that hadn’t quite made its way out yet. The bulbs on the foxes collar lit up, Nick’s body shuddering slightly as if he had a bad case of the hiccups.

“Nick- you know…” the bunny stopped on a breathy pause, unable to get the words out.

“Ya know, I thought you of all mammals would think differently of me.” The fox spoke. He turned his face away from her and looked out the window into the prison parking lot, holding his head up slightly. The little red veins in his eyes were unmistakable as the fox blinked rapidly.

“I know what you’re capable of.” Judy replied, her own eyes dull and fixed on the steering wheel in front of her.

“I swear I didn’t do it. I couldn’t have done it.”

“That’s what they all say, we both know that.”

“Yes, we do know that. But, you know me better, don’t you?” his teeth scraped together as he tried to keep his composure.

“I thought I did.”

“ _Then what changed?_ ” the fox asked, turning in her direction to interrogate his former partner.

“You _butchered_ her Nick!”

“No, I _didn’t_.” the sound the predator’s fangs made when gnashing against the rest of the teeth made the rabbits ears shoot up, alert.

“ _What then_? What happened?” she continued to pry.

“Somebody else broke into my apartment…”

“You would have _known_ if someone broke into your apartment. Don’t give me that _bullshit_ Wilde!”

“ _I was dru_ -“ Nick started to speak, cutting himself off as the rabbit slammed her paws onto her steering wheel.

“ _Drunk_. Do you think _that_ of all things helps your case, Nick? Did it help?”

The car went silent, both of the occupants panting, a pained look shared between them. The fox seemed to either be on the verge of a manic outburst, or possibly tears. It was hard to tell.

“ _You tell me, Hopps_.”

Despite the horribly cold air blowing in through Nicks open window, Judy had to raise a shaky paw and wipe away the sweat that had formed on her brow. Nick took to looking out the window again, unable to look at the rabbit any longer.

“I believed you at first, you know.”

Nick didn’t say a word.

“I couldn’t bear the thought that the most important-“ the rabbit stopped herself, readjusting in her seat. “-That a _good friend_ of mine could snap like _you did_.”

Silence.

“It wasn’t until the prosecutor brought up witness, after witness, after _witness_ from your apartment complex- each and every one of them testifying that they watched a drunken sheep and a red fox make their way into _your_ apartment did I realize that maybe I _didn’t really know you at all_.” The cop’s voice was shaky. Since she had landed herself back into his life, she was a stalwart officer of the law. _Judy on duty_. But, in this moment, she sounded like she was about to break down and cry. The same fluffy rabbit he had grown to love years ago still resided somewhere within her stony shell.

He almost turned back to meet her face to face again.

“Her name was Maria, did you know that.”

He stopped himself.

“She had a family.”

“ _Stop._ ” the fox demanded, his voice low and hoarse.

Of course he knew her name. Of course he knew she had a family. In the fall-out of that fateful night, there wasn’t a day gone by that he wasn’t reminded of who it was that he had so mercilessly slaughtered.

The officers responding to the scene didn’t want to believe it, Nick had befriended them during his time on the force. But a nosy neighbor called in, suspicious that an inebriated fox and sheep stumbling into a room together late at night could only mean trouble. They had to respond. But the fox didn’t recall much. He could hardly remember who he had met that night, but they weren’t a sheep. It couldn’t have been a sheep. It wouldn’t have been a woman. It might have been a drinking buddy, or a friend he met at the bar whom he had invited over to accompany him as he continued to drown out his sorrows over the pitiful day he had after the bar had kicked them out. But they didn’t find a drinking buddy, or a new friend, on his carpet. Nor did they find bits and pieces of a predator sitting upon old newspapers poorly sprawled out to minimize the mess.

No, it was a sheep, and he himself knew that nobody else could have done it.

_God._

As the mortified officers lifted the drunken fox off of the sofa, he couldn’t pay much attention to anything other than the horrible scene that littered his floor. That and the warm breeze that wafted into the room from the fire escape door that he was sure he had closed before he went out for the night.

“Why did you come here today?” Nick asked.

“I need your help again. You know that.”

“No, I don’t think I _really knew_.”

The conversation reached another sustained pause.

“I can take you back inside.”

Nick turned to her. He looked at her ears, gently slicked back against her head. He watched as she crinkled her nose, her big eyes looking up at him. The same look she used to give him whenever she knew he was hurting. When she knew he was in pain.

“Just start the car, let’s get out of here.” The fox pleaded, stroking his own forehead.

The rabbit stared at him.

“ _Judy_.” He started again.

Fixing her rear view mirror and signaling to the other officers outside that they were about to head out, the bunny started the ignition, rolled up to the gate and waited for the guards to open the entrance. Nick bit his cheek in an attempt to stem the tears pooling in his eyes, his body bucking occasionally as his collar administered its electric shocks.

This thing made it unreasonably difficult to make sure nobody saw that they got to him.

…

As the wide open roads of the rural part the downtown district narrowed into the crowded streets of the main city, Nick rolled up the window on his side of the car. The streets smelled of cigarette smoke and sewage.

_What happened to this place?_

The glass that now divided him from the sickly yellow lights and shady visages of the pedestrians that made up the new night life made him feel safe.

Secure.

_Separate._

As if he was in a fish bowl.

Years ago when he had first been taken away, these streets served as a localized hotspot for community activities. Animals were constantly volunteering to upkeep the vibrant look of the area, and even during the night time you might find animals out on evening strolls, enjoying the more _nocturnal_ activities the city had to offer. Tonight, however, every mammal the fox could see from his safe spot in the squad car hardly looked friendly. The old neon signs and various other lighting sources that used to bathe the sidewalk in a welcoming artificial dazzle were now replaced with street lamps that callously dumped their mustard colored gleam all over the road and surrounding buildings.

“When did this place get so trashy?” The fox asked the bunny, still focusing on the view outside his window.

“We can’t really afford to maintain the cities usual luster right now.” As she spoke they drove past a decrepit brick wall littered with signs warning against some illusive menace known as:  “The Green Terror”.

“ _Why_ , exactly?” the fox asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

“Well, you know. With all our funds going towards the war effort-“

“ _Right_.”

They continued to sit in silence for a while, both of them eager to head home for the night. Nick’s eyes followed a poster plastered near the entrance of a convenience store as they passed it by. Depicted on said poster was a jagged set of claws sticking a knife through what looked to be a map of Zootopia, the arm attached to the claws lined with green scales, the text above the image reading: “The Creatures of the Eastlands, Zootopia’s nightmare!”

“So, we’re… still at war?” the fox spoke up again. The bunny replied with a slight nod, eyes still trained on the road.

About a year into his imprisonment, he and the other inmates had heard that the city of Zootopia had gone and gotten itself into some conflict with a nation to the east. Nobody knew much about it.

Looking at the signs outside his window, Nick still didn’t know much about it. Whatever it was that they were fighting, someone wanted to make sure that they were paranoid about it.

Come to think of it, he’s never see one of these “Eastlanders” with his own two eyes.

He looked at the road they were driving down. Old fast food bags and other refuse could be seen with the aid of the headlights. The sight of just how dilapidated the city had become in his absence made his nose crinkle in frustration and disgust. Part of him wanted to complain. The remaining portion of his being was too tired to think.

They finally arrived the towering form of Zootopia Police Department, carefully waiting for one of the departing patrol cars to exit the parking lot before entering. Judy parked and turned the engine off, pulling her keys out and opening her door without saying a word to the fox.

“Thanks for your time today, but I didn’t really need the escort.” She explained to the other two rabbit officers as she gathered her belongings from the trunk.

“No sweat…” Charles, the bunny she thoroughly throttled earlier, spoke up. His partner gently elbowed him in the side. “Right, Officer Hopps, I apologize for my actions earlier, I understand that he was your partner once, I just-“Without turning to look at the rabbit, Judy quieted him with a wave of her paw, her head still peering inside of her trunk.

“You acted out of line, that’s all. Shape up and there won’t be any need for apologies.”

“Ye- yes ma’am!” With that, the two other cops left the parking lot, leaving the fox and rabbit alone.

Her bags in paw, Judy led Nick towards her own personal car, unlocking it so that he could get in.

They were on the road again.

…

The Z.P.D building growing smaller in the distance, Nick watched as they passed by the Grand Pangolin Arms, the complex Judy had first lived in when she arrived in Zootopia. Not that great of a place, and though the neighbors were charming at first, they got old quick. She was eventually able to afford a nicer apartment for herself once she got her promotion.

They continued down the road for a while, eventually arriving at a smaller, gated complex. The two got out of the car and entered the building, Judy waving off the receptionist, clearly concerned that a well-known convict currently following the bunny.

“Wait- _Judy_!”

“I’m fine Clarice, he’s in my custody. I’ll tell you all about it later.” The rabbit explained the situation flippantly. The armadillo sitting at the front desk relaxed a little in her seat, clearly still on the defensive. Still, she let them pass, going back to filing her nails, not saying another word as the bunny called down the elevator.

“I’m starting to get the feeling that _none of your friends like me_.” Nick whispered to the bunny as they entered the lift, trying to lighten the mood.

Trying to let her think she didn’t get to him.

She ignored him.

Nick watched as the lights above them lit up, signifying each passing floor. His raspy breathing, faltering only when he received a light shock from his collar, was especially audible in the quiet elevator. If he could hear it, Judy certainly could as well.

“You were a good cop Nick.” Judy began. “And a _real_ good guy.”

He didn’t say anything.

“What happened?”

“Didn’t take, I guess.” Was his only response.

“Guess not.”

The rabbit stepped out of the elevator when it found her floor, the fox following suit. Together they made their way down the well-lit hallway and eventually found themselves standing in front of Judy’s door. She pulled out her key and unlocked the door, propping it open for a moment so that the fox could step inside.

_Aw geez…_

The moment Nick’s feet came in contact with the plushy carpet of Judy’s floors, he felt his body ascend to heaven. He walked a little further inside, allowing the bunny to lock them in. The fox curled his toes, taking in the welcoming comfort of her floor. Mammal’s take for granted just _how soft their carpets are._ Spending five years in the slammer will fix that for you. As the fox stood there, Judy made her way over to her kitchen table, retrieving her pill bottles from her bag and setting them out for the next day.

Having his fill of the carpet, Nick took a moment to look around the place. It hasn’t changed much since he had last stayed over.

He noticed her sofa, sitting in the same place it had been all those years ago, a smile overtaking his tired muzzle as he remembered.

~~~

Nick found himself kicked out of his old, ragtag apartment. His lease had ended, and he didn’t have the cash to stay anywhere else. To make matters worse, he had come down with the worst cold he’s had in years. Sick and homeless, he fully intended on living under that old bridge again, but his partner, who _did_ get her flu shot, had other ideas.

Tonight, he found himself curled up on her couch, watching an old black and white sci-fi flick: Attack of the 50 Foot Vixen.

“Move your tail, scruff.” The rabbit said, walking up to the fox spread out on the sofa. She carried with her a warm bowl of something. Whatever it was, it smelled yummy.

“Aw fluff, c’mon, can’t a sick fox have his day?” Nick answered her, stretching slightly, his back popping satisfyingly.

“I brought you your beetle soup.” Was all she said.

And it was all she had to say. Without another word, the fox retracted his legs and sat up, leaving ample room for the small bunny to join him. She handed him his meal.

“My _goat_ Nick, this movie is outlandish.” She said, watching as a giant foam paw, presumably belonging to the titular “fifty foot vixen” reached out to grab the unfaithful husband.

“That’s what makes it a classic!” Nick explained, his mouth full of hot soup. “Ow! I think I burnt my tongue…”

They sat there in a comfortable silence, watching as the giant foam hand proceeded to flail the lifeless dummy used to represent the husband. It just sort of flops around, flaccid and dead.

“See! Look at that! What are these special effects?” the rabbit complained.

The fox shrugged, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he tried to cool it off. “Don’t complain, it does the trick.” He managed to say, albeit a little awkwardly do to his refusal to retract his tongue.

“Whatever…”

They continued to watch.

…

As the film ended, Judy leaned back on the fox sitting next to her. “Hairy, Hairy!” she shouted, doing her best impression of the vixen from the movie they had just finished.

“Lay off carrots, you know you liked it.” Nick said, wrapping his arm around her to pull her a little closer.

“It… _was_ a pretty nice night all things considered.” She stated, turning her head to face him, the violet of her eyes genially meeting his emerald.

“See, we should do this more often.” He replied, returning her warm stare.

“Nah”

“What do you mean ‘nah’?”

“The movie wasn’t what made this night memorable.”

Neither of them had the courage to say anything for a while.

Nick broke the silence. “Carrots… _Judy_ , thank you. For everything. You didn’t need to take care of me, or take me in. I can’t even begin to tell you how important this all is to me.”

“My couch is _always_ open to a friend like yourself.” She assured him, nuzzling a little deeper into his chest.

Do friends typically sleep on the couch together?

Whatever, they will tonight.

Nick closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift. _Ya know_ , the couch at Judy’s place is a lot more comfortable then the bed at his old apartment.

Must be the pillows.

He rested his head on hers, and that night they had a peaceful respite from the hectic day to day, if only just for a while.

~~~

The fox’s day dream was interrupted by the sound of a pillow flopping onto the couch in front of him, followed by a set of blankets. He turned to see Judy standing there, already dressed for bed. _Had he really been lost in thought for that long?_

_“_ Catch some shut eye, we’re getting up early tomorrow.”

The fox nodded.

“I’m going to take you to go see my partner.”

Nick blinked.

“You’ve got a new partner?” he asked.

“I’ve had a few.”

The fox let out a gentle sigh, patting his leg gently as he bit his lip and looked down at the floor. He nodded again.

“I’m… gonna go to bed now.” She said, turning to walk down the hall way to her own bedroom.” She was only half way there before she turned back. “You can sleep on the couch.”

There was no response.

“Good Night Nick.”

The vulpine listened as the bunny made her way into her room and closed the door. His ears perked up as he listened to each and every tumbler in the lock falling into place, sealing her off from him.

_Safe_ from him.

He looked at the couch for a moment.

Nick reached out to the nearby lamp, pulling the cord a little too hard in an effort to turn off the light. He swiped the pillow and blankets off of the couch and threw them down onto the ground in front of it. Curling up at the foot of the sofa, he laid his weary head, free from the prison, if only for a little while. The gentle shocks from his collar, accompanied by the occasional soft sob that would leak out of his muzzle, lulled him to sleep.


	2. Shaken and Stirred

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s a funny sight to find yourself replaced, don’t you think? Few people find it alright, and every one of them reacts in their own way. If you have the time, give it some thought. What ideas must be floating around in a person’s (or mammal’s) head the moment they discover they weren’t as treasured as they so comfortably thought themselves to be?

He stirred in his sleep.

~~~

“Up and at’em scruff…” a rabbit cooed from beneath him, her paw rubbing the underside of his muzzle tenderly. “We’ve got places to be.”

The vulpine groggily propped himself up by his elbows and met his bunny companion snout to snout.He had slept on her the entire night. Lifting himself up and off of her, he sat up on the couch, only to notice that the menu screen for the movie they had been watching the night before was still on the television. The bright morning sun shone through the windows and onto the monitor; making it a little difficult to make out the celluloid picture of a vixen holding an entire car in her left paw. They must have forgotten to hit the power button in their rush to get to sleep last night, which _probably_ does wonders for the rabbits electric bill.

“Mmm…” Nick hummed, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “I didn’t crush you or anything, did I?”

“Oh, nah…” Judy replied with a toothy, bashful grin. “You actually make a pretty warm blanket, so I don’t have much to complain about.” She sat up beside him as she spoke, and when she stretched, her bones popped audibly, confirming the fox’s suspicion that she likely didn’t have the most _comfortable_ night’s rest trapped between a predator and the couch cushions. That being said, she didn’t seem all that irritated.

Nick reached out towards the coffee table in an effort to grab the remote, stopping half way to crack his back. When he finally reached the clicker, he turned the television off. Might as well try to save power where you can.

“You said we had places to be?" the fox repeated her words back at her before yawning a little too loudly for the rabbits liking, still trying to wake up.

“Yeah.” The rabbit replied, stroking the back of her neck. “Thought we could go for a walk around town.”

The fox groaned, rubbing his paws over his eyes. “I think we’ve done enough walking around town _on the job_.”

“But we aren’t on the job right now. We don’t _have_ to go anywhere today. Why don’t we just take a walk?” she reasoned.

“ _Judy..._ ” his voice trailed off into a whine as he took  her paws in his own, lifting her arms above her head so that her back could crack satisfyingly. “I’m a very sick fox. If you take me out and I die of exhaustion it’s all going to be on you.”

“Nick…” she breathed out his name amidst a satisfied moan, the sound drawn from her lips due to the release of all the tension built up around her spine from the night before.

He rubbed her paws in his own for a moment.

He tried his hardest not to look her in the eyes.

He failed.

“ _Fine_.” Her stubborn attitude won him over. Or maybe it was the alluring way she had spoken his name. Either way, he was putty in her paws.

“You know what, I’ll make you a offer.” She said, delivering a delicate punch to his arm.

He rubbed the area tenderly. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“We nap for another hour, and then we head out, _no complaining_.”

The fox thought for a moment and bit his lip.  Sucking air through his teeth and rolling his eyes, he seemed to come to a decision.

“You drive a hard bargain Hopps, _but you’ve got yourself a_ _deal_.”

Her little mouth curled into a tight, satisfied smile. The vulpine tried to ignore the sneaking suspicion that the room just got a little bit brighter.

“Remember foxy, not a word. When we wake up, we’re leaving this place and there will be no arguing.” She said, lying back down beside him.

“Scout’s honor” he assured her with a dismissive chuckle, flopping down onto his side languidly.

“And you aren’t allowed to pretend to still be asleep, we get up together.”

“Shhh…” the fox whispered with a clawed finger pressed against her lips. He closed his eyes and made himself comfortable on the sofa.

Once they were situated, the two friends curled up together a little closer. The fox wrapped a paw around the rabbit’s tiny torso, squeezing it gently.

~~~

“You need to get up.” The rabbit’s words swam through the air and into his head, waking him from pleasant, dreamy memories.

Nick sat up to find the very same bunny from his dream sitting at the kitchen table across the room, slathering a carrot spread across a warm piece of toast.

“You want anything?” she asked the fox now leaning against her couch for support. He took a moment to look around the living room and remember where he was and how it was that he got here. A dull sun ray shone through the windows, painting the apartment with a depressing, misty grey light.

“No.”

…

The two sat together in a pained silence, the kind that echoes through your ears despite being the absence of sound. It travels through your head and makes its way towards your chest. It clutches at your heart, smothering your words before they have the chance to leave your tongue. Judy munched at her toast, seemingly lost in thought. All the while, Nick peered out the apartment window, trying to get a better look of the city. He was curious to see if, perhaps bathed in the light of day instead of the sickly synthetic glow it finds covering itself at night, the city was any prettier.

And it wasn’t.

And too few animals walked down the streets he recalled used to bustle with life.

And the watering hole in the center of the park was deserted.

And it was all a soft shock to the fox.

And maybe he was just in the mood to complain today, but he swore the now dirty window panes of the towering skyscrapers nearby used to receive a decent washing once a week. Today they looked as if they hadn’t seem soap since he was last here.

Nick was by no means a patriotic Zootopian, but when he was accepted into the ZPD’s ranks he had sworn an oath to protect the place he called home. His partner saw something of worth in the city, and she had promised him that it was worth fighting for. So he would safeguard it. He would treasure it like she did.

Even if some days he had trouble seeing just what it was that she saw in it.

He looked across the table to see the rabbit gingerly shake a few capsules out of her pill bottle and into her paw, downing them with a sip of juice.

“It’s going to be cold today.” The rabbit spoke up for the first time in a while.

“Oh.”

“You’ll need a jacket.” She continued.

“No I won’t.”

Judy got up from her chair and walked off towards her room, leaving him to sit alone in the early morning light.

He looked back out the window and down at the trash ridden streets. This was going to be one of those days.

The rabbit returned with a familiar bundle of cloth held lax in her paws. He hadn’t seen the old coat in years, but he recognized it the moment she walked out from the hallway. It was a simple, somewhat grungy thing. The side pockets were worn out from the days he used to pick at their threads nervously as he and the bunny strolled together in the cooler days the year had to offer. The sleeves were baggy and eventually stopped clinging to his wrists all together, and it was missing a few buttons. Knowing all of this, Judy still insisted on borrowing it from time to time. It was warmer than anything in her closet, she insisted.

“Why… do you still have this?” the vulpine asked.

“I forgot all about it until recently. Saw it the other day when I was cleaning. You must have left it here, or something.” She hurried through her explanation, tossing the rags onto her kitchen table. “Go get ready, we’re leaving soon.”

…

“So where are we off to anyways?” the red fox asked, stepping out of the truck.

“I called my partner this morning, he’s at the bar.” Judy replied, making sure her personal vehicle was locked before opening the door to the police cruiser.

_A drunkard?_

“Does he usually drink before work?” Nick inquired.

“I don’t make it my business to meddle in his business.” the rabbit explained, tossing her bag onto the driver’s seat before unlocking the passenger side door.  “ _But_ , I don’t think I’ve ever seen the guy totally sober, if that counts for anything.”

_A drunkard._

Nick hastily pulled his coat a little tighter around himself as he climbed into the car, the morning cold still nipping at him incessantly. Maybe she was right about him needing a coat.

…

“Mmmmmm heh heh heh…” the white jackrabbit’s groan of satisfaction slowly changed its shape until it became a buzzed giggle. “Another martini please, and remember: Shaken, not stirred.”

“I get it Jack, ya order the same drink _every_ time. Ya don’t need to remind me how ya like ‘em.” the zebra barmaid complained at the rabbit as she turned her back to him. Without a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed two bottles off of the shelves behind the counter: Gin and Vermouth. Particularly impressive when one takes into consideration the fact that all of the vessels of sweet alcohol looked to be the same amethyst hue in the purple lighting the bar provided.

He didn’t know how she managed to do it, but as long as she kept them coming his way he wasn’t all that curious.

“Keep diving muzzle first into these cocktail glasses and your kidney’s will hate ya for it, ya March Hare.” she said, sliding his drink towards him.

The buck held out his paw, catching the glass right before it fell off the counter. “Shhhh… that’s neither here nor there.” His paws shook ever so slightly as he brought the glass to his lips, sipping the drink delicately.

The loud snaps of playing cards hitting a table resounded around the room. In the back, a few mammals played poker, keeping to themselves.

“Ya need to find ya’self someone to take care of ya. Someone who’ll knock ya upside the head when ya go on these drinking binges. Beat some sense into ya.” the zebra said.

Jack swallowed his latest sip carefully before setting his glass down. “Why don’t you?”

“Cause’ that’s not how i get paid.”

“Perfectly reasonable.” he replied.

They sat there for a moment, the rabbit looking off towards the front of the bar where a trio of vixens, well-known burlesque dancers in this part of town, continued their sultry show for the other bar goers. Without taking his eyes off of them, his quivering paw reached for his glass and brought it up to his lips for another sip.

“Why don’t ya get some bright-eyed doe to follow ya around anyways?” the zebra pried, leaning against the countertop. “Certainly got the looks for it, but I’m partial to black stripes on white fur I ‘spose.”

The jackrabbit tore his gaze away from the vulpine performers and ran a paw across the slick, dark stripes that painted their way across his cheek fur.

“Oh Anna, you know I never stick around for long. No sense in breaking some poor girl’s heart playing around like a rabbit I know  I’m not.” he replied, drawing a handkerchief out of his front suit pocket. He wiped his brow before continuing. “Besides, any doe dumb enough to wanna stick around me for long isn’t the type of girl I should be wooing.”

“Guess you’re right” the barmaid said with a shrug, starting to wipe the table down.

They continued their respective activities in silence for a while, Anna polishing the onyx-toned bar counter to a pleasant sheen while Jack watched the performers, sipping his martini.

His cellphone buzzed, disturbing the smooth, swing-styled jazz that once filled the bar.

“I wonder who _this_ could possibly be” he said, unlocking the phone to see who was texting him, unsurprised to find his partner’s name on the screen. He peered into his glass with a dissatisfied look. “Of course she couldn’t wait for me to finish my drink.”

“Shame” Anna said

He didn’t move.

“Just take the damn glass ya drunk.”

“ _Aw_ , thanks sweetheart!” the rabbit beamed, getting up to walk out the door.

“Jack!” the zebra called out to him as he went.

The rabbit turned around, meeting a concerned pair of eyes with a raised eyebrow of his own.

“Stop coming here, please.”

He gave her a gentle grin, turning away again so as to walk out the door.

_“I mean it.”_

…

Nick stirred uncomfortably in the passenger seat. “Ya know, when you said he was at the bar, I didn't think you meant... this.” he gestured towards the white building they were currently parked outside of. An air of regality  floated amidst it. With as fancy a venue as it was, it looked out of place in the grungy city. “How does he even manage to frequent a club like _that_ on a cop’s salary?”

“The guy was a ZIA agent before he joined the precinct, so I'm sure he can afford to splurge a little.” Judy explained, tapping on the steering wheel anxiously as they waited for him to step out the front door.

“He worked with the ZIA?”

His question was answered with a slow nod, the rabbit’s eyes not leaving the doors of the bar.

“Why would he want to give all that up for…. this?”

“Ask him yourself.”

_Oh_

_It’s a rabbit._

It sauntered over to the car, a stupid, cheery grin  plastered on it’s face and a cocktail glass held slack in it’s paw. It walked over to the passenger side of the vehicle.

Jack peered in through the tinted cruiser window, only to notice the fox in his seat. “Oh! You must be Nick Wilde, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he said, Judy rolling the window down so that he could give the vulpine a firm paw shake.

“Likewise....” Nick replied, clearly not at all thrilled to be touching the paws with this particular rabbit.

The two stared at one another in an awkward silence.

“I’ll get in the back” the vulpine yielded.

…

“ _Catch your shut eye… In your ro-”_

Jack turned the dial on the radio, changing the station.

“ _Oh where Oh where can my baby b-_ ”

The dial turns again. This time Judy’s paw was the one to change it.

“-days since the start of the war with the Eastlanders, and it’s only gonna get worse from here folks-”

“There’s nothing on..” the white rabbit groaned, flicking the nob. Nick slumped over in the back of the car, trying his hardest not to fall asleep.

“So you better wrap up tight and find your favorite animal to snuggle up close to, cause tonights gonna be the chilliest savannah central’s seen in years, and that’s the _truth, Ruth!_ Now, ladies and gentle mammals, get ready for-”

Jack turned the dial again.

“There isn’t anything good on in the mornings, so you can stop trying.” Judy assured him.

The jackrabbit opened his mouth to say something, but his reply faded into nothingness as Nick felt himself slip in and out of consciousness.

_Nothing good…._

Nick let the words roll around in his brain for a while before lying back against the hard headrest of his seat and began to daydream.

~~~

“Give it up fluff. Morning radio is always garbage.” the fox snarked, leaning against the window of their car.

“Ok slick, you got any better ideas?”

They’d been snowbound for several hours now, and both of them were getting pretty antsy. The blizzard wasn’t supposed to kick up until they’d left tundra town, but the mammal watching over them from above must have felt like playing a bit of a joke today. Just as they had started on their way out of the district, the winds began to howl and the snow began to pile. So, here they were; stuck for the better part of the morning, nothing but the shoddy patrol car heater and their near constant bickering to keep them warm.

Speaking of that shoddy heater.

“Can you turn the car back on? It’s freaking cold.” Nick shoved his shivering paws into his underarms, trying his hardest to stay warm.

“Wish I could, but we’re running low on gas. I don’t think it’s a  good idea to waste it just because some cry-baby fox kit can’t stand the cold.” she spat back.

The vulpine let out a frustrated growl before pulling his legs up near his chest, shivering.

How could she stand such chilly weather anyways? She was so much smaller than he was, and her fur was so much shorter than his own. By all accounts, she should be the one begging to turn the heater on. How she did it, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was all that energy she seemed to constantly have pent up, or perhaps it was her burning thirst for justice.

No.

No, _thats stupid_.

Whatever it was, he was too busy trying to avoid becoming a foxsicle to dwell on it for very long. So instead he decided to stop thinking and sat silent in his aching leather seat.

And tremble horribly.

And he did.

The wind continued to howl. The snow continued to pile, and it didn’t look like they were getting out of this any time soon. God, what were they going to do?

“Aw…” his partner cooed from across the center console which separated them.

“What!?” he barked incredulously.

“Are you really _that_ cold?” she continued.

“Wha- No! I… _No_.” he shifted away from her. “Just, leave me alone…”

“ _Nick…_ ” she mewled his name. With her two paws she propped herself up on the console, staring at him with those big doe eyes of her’s. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal…”

She reached a paw out to him and rested it on his shoulder, which he allowed for a moment before deciding it would be best to swat it away.

_But it was so warm. Why was she always so warm?_

The snow piled up some more, but his heart melted.

_“If you’re really that upset…”_

“I said I’m _fine_.”

And melted.

“... _I could  warm you up_.”

The corner of her lip inched up ,slowly but surely forming a warm smile; and the way she gazed at him with her half lidded eyes left him speechless. His fur bristled and his ears rose attentively. His cheeks were hot and shy.

She knew he was a cuddler. He would never admit to it, but she knew.

“ _Fine…” he_ grumbled. “Earn your keep, _rabbit_.” he said, opening his arms wide, which the bunny happily jumped  into.

…

“Ok, so maybe morning radio isn’t _all bad_.”

“That was _so sad_ …” that rabbit said with a sniffle.

They had managed to tune into a radio drama.

“C’mon, at least they got through it together!” he said. “And now they get the chance to go and start a new life together, it’s a happy ending.”

“Yeah, but the stuff that poor fox had to go through to get there! I’m glad Bunnyburrow isn’t _that_ backwards in reality.” she continued, snuggling her head into the groove underneath his chin as she sat on his lap.

“It’s still pretty backwards.”

She responded with a firm punch to his knee.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

They sat there and talked about the drama for several hours, enjoying the company - and warmth - of one another.

Eventually, as all storms do, the blizzard blew over their area. Within the hour they were back on the main city streets of Zootopia, the pristine sidewalks, bright street lights and towering building welcoming them back. It was all incorruptible.

~~~

The fox stirred from his daydream, awakening to polluted scene.

“Hello, earth to foxy?” A voice he didn’t want to hear spoke up.

Nick looked around in an attempt to get his bearings.

“Glad to see you’re conscious, I was afraid I was going to have to go back there and shake you awake.”

The fox didn’t say anything, instead choosing to unbuckle his seatbelt and stretch his legs. The back of a cop car could be a very cramped place, as he had come to find.

“You good, buddy?” the jack rabbit asked, turning around so that he could face the fox. His question, however,  was met only with an annoyed scowl.

“My oh my, aren’t we grumpy?” He scoffed and, turning away from the fox again, casually put his feet up on the dashboard.

Nick looked out the window and into the lot they were parked in. They were outside of some ugly, carbuncle of a convenience store. Somewhere. He didn’t recognize the area. Much of the city has changed, and he wasn’t around to see it.

“Where’s Judy?” the fox inquired.

“She ran inside the corner store. Had a prescription to pick up at the pharmacy.”

“Oh.”

Nick fidgeted in his seat some more. Jack fiddled with his paws, running his fingers over his palms over and over again, something on the tip of his tongue.

“Why is it you’re so glum, chum?” the jackrabbit asked somewhat suddenly, breaking the silence.

The fox groaned.

“What is it you’re getting at, rabbit?” He answered with a question of his own.

Jack attempted to speak up.

“What’s with this ‘pleasant’ attitude of yours?” Nick interrupted.

The white rabbit opened his mouth to speak again, only to be cut off by a deep, labored sigh from the vulpine behind him.

“We both know that I’m a criminal, so stop tiptoeing around it.” he tugged at his collar as he spoke. “I’m sick and tired of this two-faced rabbit bit you guys have got going on. You don’t like me, and I don’t like you.”

Jack stifled a humourless chuckle and leaned further back in his chair .

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, is it my turn to speak?”

He didn’t have to look back to tell that the vulpine was glaring at him. The guy’s eyes were like daggers, boring into the back of the rabbit’s skull.

“I don’t have anything against you.” The white bunny explained. “But you’re certainly making yourself _difficult to like_.”

Nick looked away from the rabbit and stared at the floor of the car, taken aback by the rabbits casual, matter-of-fact manner of speaking.

“You wanna get out of the car, maybe stretch a little? I can’t imagine it’s very comfortable back there.” the rabbit reasoned.

As much as the fox hated to accept generosity from the weaselly little bunny, he hated being stuck back there just a little more.

“Sure.”

…

“Cigarette?” the rabbit offered the fox sitting beside him on the curb.

Nick held out his paw, receiving the stick.

“You smoke?” the fox asked.

“Not really. they were a gift from a friend.”

The fox put the cigarette in his mouth. Within seconds the rabbit’s lighter was flicked on and in the vulpines face, trying to light it for him.

Nick snatched it from his paws.

“I can light it myself.”

He ignited the tip of the cigarette and handed the lighter back to the bunny.

Inhaling deeply, the fox drew the cigarette from his lips. “So, Carro- ... _Judy_ tells me you were part of the ZIA?”

The rabbit chuckled that humorless chuckle of his again.

“Yeah, guess so.”

“What made you give all that up? I can’t imagine being a cop and walking the beat pays any better.”

The rabbit rubbed his knees sheepishly.

“It wasn’t… _entirely_ my decision.”

“ _Yeah_?” the fox pressed.

“The Zootopian Intelligence Agency doesn’t take too kindly to having an alcoholic in their ranks.” the white jack rabbit explained.

“Last I’d checked, neither does the ZPD.” Nick retorted.

“That was the last time you checked. You’d be surprised at what they will turn a blind eye to as long as you play nice…” The rabbit explained. His voice carried with it a sort of solemness.

Nick laughed dryly. “I’m no stranger to how blurred the blue line can get these days.” As he spoke, he leaned back on his paws and puffed a few times on his smoke.

They waited in silence. The early morning air still chilled the fox, so he tugged his coat extra tight around himself. Construction work was being done a little ways down the street, and the scent of burning metal wouldn’t leave his sensitive nose alone.

“Thanks for doing this, by the way.” the jack rabbit spoke up.

_Thanks for what?_

“Not sure I know what you mean, Skippy.” Nick replied without sparing a glance at the rabbit, continuing to suck on his cigarette.

“For cooperating with us.”

The fox stopped.

He stopped puffing.

He stopped daydreaming.

He stopped avoiding eye contact with the rabbit beside him.

He started thinking.

He sat up.

“Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever got a good description of just _what it is_ that you guys want from me.” Nick explained.

“Judy didn’t tell you?”

Nick crossed his legs and held his smoke daintily in his paw, just below his chin.

“No.”

The rabbit sighed.

“There’s been a lot of gang activity these past few years.”

Nick eyed the rabbit carefully.

“And there’s one group… _gang_ in particular that is causing us a lot of problems.”

“I don’t think I follow.” Nick admitted.

“You will.” the bunny paused for a moment. “The gang, or _The Dirty Paws_ as they call themselves, are saboteurs.” He fiddled with his watch. “They seem to think themselves to be revolutionaries, and they’ve made it their job to rebel against the government here in Zootopia.”

“I still don’t follow.”

“The thing is, Nick, _we can’t find them_. We’ve caught several of their members, but not one of them will speak a word.” the jackrabbit grumbled something before speaking again. “I guess, when you are fighting for a cause you believe in, you find the strength to resist our cities… methods of persuasion.”

_What did he mean by that? “Methods of Persuasion?”_

_It couldn’t be._

_The city he knew would never do that._

“We’ve tried most everything, we can’t find their base of operations, and _we’ve searched extensively_ . We _just can’t find them_ .” He closed his eyes and his quivering paws stroked his chin carefully.. “ _But_ … we think that _you can_.”

Nick’s usually snarky countenance morphed into one of confusion.

“I don’t know anything about them, so what help could I be?”

“One thing we know for certain, or at least _we think_ we know it for certain, is that the current leader of the group is the former mob boss: _Nikolai Koslov_.”

Nikolai Koslov.

Nicholas Wilde’s former employer.

“I-” the words caught in the fox’s throat.

_How did they know he had any connection with the polar bear?_

“What do you-” he struggled to speak again.

_It’s been years since he’s spoken with the mob boss._

Nick paused and, breathing in and out carefully, seemed to come to a  sudden realization.

_He told Judy about it once on one of their late night stake outs._

_“_ What is it that you need from me?” he asked.

“We need you to help us find him.”

The fox put the cigarette back in his mouth and, closing his eyes shut tight, shook his head groggily.

“I'm not sure what makes you guys think I have the foggiest clue where he could be.” he flicked his ashes onto the asphalt. “I get that you may have not noticed, but I've been a little tied up these past few years, and haven't had the opportunity to catch up with the guy.”

“But you worked with him, didn't you?” the Jack rabbit asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, but-”

“ Than you’re the best fox for the job!”

The vulpine stared at him half lidded.

“Every mammal in our custody who has worked with Koslov in the past refuses to cooperate-” the rabbit was interrupted by a dismissive chuckle from the fox sitting beside him.

“And what makes you think _I'll_ cooperate?” Nick asked. “I'm not so sure I owe you _anything_ , Skippy.”

The jackrabbit glared at him with an indignation the fox didn't think he had in him.

“Correct me if I'm wrong, but your execution was yesterday, was it not?”

The fox looked made a face as if to insinuate that he was deep in thought.

“Uh-huh” he nodded in agreement.

“and if it wasn't for officer Hoops, you would have, in all likelihood, have ‘ridden the thunder’ that day.” the bunny continued.

The fox smiled and gave a little giggle.

“Yup, that _does_ sound about right.”

“Well, it seems to me, and maybe I'm interpreting this wrong, that the bunny saved your life.”

“And look how much good that's done me?” Nick took the cigarette from his mouth and threw it to the ground, smashing it under his foot. “ _Maybe I’d be better off dead than serving as your blood hound in an investigation that has nothing to do with me.”_

The bunny grabbed his ears in anger and let out a frustrated groan.

It’s good to see that, despite playing the part of the “cool guy”, he could still be worked up. Still has buttons you can push.

_Maybe he isn’t entirely fake._

“What’s it going to take, Nick?”

The fox raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry?”

“What’s it going to take.” the rabbit continued. “If you won’t do it for Judy, than what will you do it for?”

The fox took a moment to ponder and  looked at the cigarette he had trampled under his feet.

“Got anymore smokes?”

The jack rabbit rolled his eyes, but gave him the stick regardless.

“Why are you like this?” he asked, handing the lighter over.

“Guess I’m just a bad guy.” the fox replied, cupping his paws around his muzzle as he lit the cigarette, trying his hardest to keep the cool, early morning wind from putting the flame out. “But to tell you the truth, I would have helped regardless. I just want to see you squirm a bit before I do.”

The jack rabbit’s ears drooped to the sides of his head as he exhaled in exasperation, rising again the moment he saw Judy exit the corner store.

“Officer Hopps! Ready to go?” he asked, standing up.

“Hu-huh? Oh, yeah… sure.” she said, something clearly on her mind.

The vulpine gave her a weak wave hello.

“Hey… when did you pick up smoking?” the bunny asked.

“Just started again.” the fox responded.

“Oh… _why?_ ”

“Helps with the nerves.”

The bunny scoffed and turned her head away from him.

“Well put it out, we’re getting back in the car.” she ordered, walking back over to the patrol vehicle.

Dejected, the fox threw his newly lit cigarette on the ground and stamped it out before following her, his paws in his pockets.

“Hey…” Jack said, nudging him as they walked.

The fox looked at him suspiciously.

“You can have the rest.” he offered, and slipped the pack of cigarettes in the vulpines coat pocket before walking around the other side of the car so that he could get into the passenger's seat.

…

“Nick”

The fox fiddled with the buttons on his coat sleeve absent mindedly.

“ _Nick_ ”

Once he managed to tear the stud off, he began pulling at the threads.

“ _Nick!”_

The fox furrowed his brow and looked up, his work interrupted by the voice of a female bunny.

“Jack tells me he let you in on our current situation.” the doe explained. “Is this true?”

“Correct” he affirmed.

“Then you understand what’s expected of you?” she continued.

“I suppose so.” he responded.

“Alright. We’re on our way to a diner just outside the main district right now. The head waitress called in a sighting of a member of the Dirty Paw Gang.”

“That so?” he asked, belligerent.

“It is.” she responded curtly. “I’m hoping she’ll be able to give us a good description of what the mammal looks like. You just need to listen and let us know if anything sounds familiar to you.”

“Sounds like a plan, officer.” the fox responded, returning to his efforts at pulling the strings loose from his sleeve.

“Don’t patronize me.”

…

It was noon by the time they got there.

Walking into the diner, the scent of coffee cake immediately hit the three animals.

“You know, if we have the chance, we should have lunch here. They serve breakfast all day.” The jackrabbit said.

Nobody stood at the register.

“She better be here. If not for the sake of the case, for the sake of my stomach.”

Nick took the time to look around the restaurant. Nobody seemed to be here, guess they don’t get much traffic. Or maybe the food is terrible. For whatever reason, the place didn’t have many patrons.

“Should we-” Judy stopped herself. “Jack, do you hear that?”

Their long ears stood at attention. Someone was arguing inside of the kitchen in hushed whispers.

“Nick… have a seat.”

The fox nodded slowly and took his place in a tacky orange booth.

The two rabbit officers cautiously pushed the door to the kitchen open and stepped inside.

“Eileen, come on!” a Jackal pleaded, holding the hooves of the gazelle waitress in his own paws.

“I can’t, Marty, I can’t!” she hissed back at him. “You coming here is putting the kids in danger, I can’t keep doing this. _I need you out of my life_!”

The two bunny cops exchanged confused looks, unsure of what to do.

Nick got up to stand in the doorway.

There was only _one thing they could do_.

“ZPD, nobody move!” Judy shouted, flashing her badge.

“Eileen! _What the fuck!?”_

_“_ Marty, _I’m so sorry!_ ”

“ _Back the fuck up_!” the Jackal shouted, his paws raised in a cautionary stance. His eyes darted between the officers.

Nick inched inside the room.

“Touch me and you rabbits will be lined in chalk by tomorrow morning _I swear on my life_!”

Nick bared his fangs.

Most of the kitchen staff crept out the back way, tiptoeing tentatively from the tense situation.

Eileen froze.

The two bunny officers advanced forward, cautiously.

The jackal looked left, then right; then left then right again. He quickly grabbed hold of the food cart and sent it spinning out of control  towards the officers decorating the kitchen floor with pancakes, waffles and every other breakfast food imaginable in the process.

“Stop!” the officers shouted in unison, only to be silenced as the cart collided with them, knocking them off of their feet.

Eileen wailed.

Nick’s collar activated.

He braced for a jolt.

Spinning around on his heels, the jackal made for the back entrance, only sparing enough time to toss shelves and pull carts into his path as he ran away.

Nick’s eyes widened and it suddenly became abundantly clear what he had to do. Sparing no time, the fox spun around and made for the diner entrance. He whizzed past the reception area and out the front door. If he was fast enough, maybe he could catch-

The convict and the gang member collided into one another, falling onto the gravel ground outside the diner. The jackal scrambled to his feet, only to be pulled down by the fox again. Nick wrestled with him for awhile, the fox’s collar giving both of the mammals violent shocks.

The gangster kicked him off, both of them scrambling to their feet.

“Stop!” the fox shouted. His claws extended, earning him another series of jolts.

“Why!?” the jackal asked, looking up to meet him eye to eye “Why do you care?”

The Jackal paused. His flat, fuzzy face contorting into a look of confusion.

The entire world seemed to stop turning in an effort to watch what was unfolding. The mammals looked at one another, both of them out of breath.

“Are you... Nicholas Wilde?”

“I… I am?” Nick’s face melted to match the jackal’s “H- How do you know me?”

“Mr. Koslov told us about you, fox.” the jackal explained, easing up slightly. “Said something about you being that hero bunny cops partner for a while.”

“He told you the truth.” Nick affirmed. “I Can’t imagine that makes you and your lot happy with me.”

“He said you were a good mammal.”

The fox’s eyes widened in surprise.

“What?”

The Jackal began backing away slowly.

“You know, Mr. Wilde, you don’t have to…” He stole a glance at Nick's collar. The rabbits would be here soon. “There's a home for you with us. We can get that collar off of you.”

“I…” the fox’s words died in his throat.

The jackal took a few steps back, and then a few more.

“How will I find you?”

“How did you find Koslov all those years ago?”

Nick stood motionless.

“Go” the fox said.

The jackal ran off, not sparing a glance back.

The vulpine didn’t move a muscle as the gangster sprinted down the gravel road as fast as he could only letting out a sigh of relief once the Jackal turned the corner, vanishing from sight.

“Nick!”

The fox turned around to see two panting rabbits come bursting out the diner doors.

“Nick, did you-” the doe stopped paused for a moment as to catch her breath. “Did you see which way he went?”

The fox stood there for a moment, dumbstruck. He looked her in her big, round, purple eyes and thought about what she meant to him.

Then he thought about what he meant to her.

“I… I didn’t see him. He must have slipped away.” The fox spoke with a certain emotional detachment. It was as if he was lost in a trance like state. Regardless, the rabbits failed to notice, instead bickering amongst themselves about what they need to do next. The fox watched them in a stunned silence.

“We need to speak to the waitress.” the jackrabbit suggested, rubbing the sweat from his brow.

“We do.” Judy agreed.

…

“Please Ma’am, we need to know what you two were talking about before we came in.”

The gazelle glanced at the buck with a look of horror. Her eyes darted away almost as quickly as she looked at him, instead focusing her attention on her hooves, which set she out on the table in front of her, trying her hardest to resist wringing them nervously.

“It was nothing, _really_ , I just wanted him to leave. Am I free to go?” she asked, nervousness lacing her voice.

“We’re only here to help, you can trust us.” Judy added, trying her best to calm the quivering mammal sat across from them.

“It’s fine, there’s nothing else to say, really! Please just let me go…”

Nick watched, fascinated. His eyes followed direction the mini whirlpool turned in his cup of coffee whenever he stirred it. He hadn’t had coffee in years, and instead of drinking it, he decided it would be well worth his time to watch it spiral endlessly instead. It helped him process his thoughts. What _didn’t_ help him process his thoughts was the sound of the two rabbit cops - whom he now found himself bound to - fussing over something with the waitress from earlier.

He didn’t care to pay much attention to just what they were bickering about, but bicker they did regardless.

“Ma’am-” the doe started.

“It’s fine! Really! i’ve told you everything I know, I just want to go home now.”

Jack looked down at the watch on his wrist as his partner stared out the window of the diner. They had been at this for a while now, and the sun was setting on them.

The rabbits seemed to sigh in unison before standing up and pushing their chairs in. They spoke in hushed tones as they walked over to Nick’s table.

“Try to be quick about finishing your coffee, we’re just going to wait in the cruiser.” Judy explained, both of the bunnies solemnly passing him by as they walked out the front set of doors.

The gazelle sat at her table, shivering. She mumbled something under her breath.

The fox took a gentle sip of his drink before recoiling at the bitter, earthy taste.

Apparently, caffeinated beverages was on the list of things that had gone to shit since he was locked away. He got up from his table and walked over to join the waitress, resolving to avoiding commenting on how she couldn’t make a cup of joe to save her life.

“Nick Wilde.” he introduced himself, holding his paw out politely as he sat down across from the distraught women.

She sniffled and looked up, exhaustion painted across her face. “Eileen” she said, taking his paw and shaking it gently. Her gaze traced its way across his eyes, over his muzzle, down his neck, and settled on his collar. Sympathy found itself joining exhaustion on her features.

“What’s the guy’s name?”

“ _Marty_ …” she whispered.

The fox gave her an understanding half-smile.

“What exactly were you guys fighting about before we got here?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

She closed her eyes and stretched  her arms.

She breathed in.

She breathed out

“I told him he needed to stop coming here.” she whispered. “I said that if _they_ found out that I knew _him_ , our kits would be taken away.”

“I’m sorry, did you say ‘our kits’?”

“He is… _was,_ my mate.”

Nick’s eyes widened slightly.

“Then why did you report him?”

“I didn’t know what to do, he wouldn’t stay away. He knew what it would mean for me if we got caught together.” she croaked. “I told him, I _told him_ it wasn’t worth it to join those ruffians. I warned him what would happen.”

She seemed to be choking back tears. Nick’s paw made it’s way across the table, gently caressing her arm.

“Why couldn’t you tell my friends all this?”

She swallowed back her tears and looked the fox in the eyes.

“I learned, a long time ago, that you can't trust he ZPD anymore.”

The fox swallowed hard.

“So why tell me?”  

She stole another glance at his collar.

“Honey, It’s plain as day to me that _you ain’t no cop_.

…

The apartment was quiet. Judy stepped light footed into her living room, each step deliberate and certain of itself as she walked through the dark room to her kitchen table. With great care she sifted through her bags for her pill bottle, trying her hardest to hush the jingle of pills bumping against plastic as she withdrew it.

She’d almost forgotten to take her third dose of the day.

Picking up her water bottle, she quietly unscrewed the bottle and shook a couple capsules into her palm. As she downed them, the silhouette of somebody familiar and yet completely unfamiliar caught her eye.

The fox was sleeping on the floor.

Again.

It’s a perfectly good couch.

Perfectly good.

~~~

Tonight, he was spread out on her couch.

Judy couldn’t help but smile to herself as she lazily stirred the bug bits around in the creamy soup. Not a very appetizing meal, but he liked it, so it was worth it. She tossed a pinch of basil into the viscous mixture and followed it with a generous sprinkle of thyme.

Careful to make sure the bowl wasn’t still too warm, she lifted the meal up and made her way over to her couch, where her fox waited for her.

“Move your tail, scruff.” The rabbit said, holding the warm dish in her paws.

“Aw fluff, c’mon, can’t a sick fox have his day?” Nick whined, stretching slightly. She couldn’t help but bite her lip gently as the fox arced his back.

_Good form slick_.

“I brought you your beetle soup.”

Judy smiled as he frantically made room on the couch for her. She hopped up next to him and gave him his meal.

“My _goat_ Nick, this movie is outlandish. She said, snuggling up next to him.

“That’s what makes it a classic!” Nick explained, his mouth full because, like a child, he can’t pace himself when eating.. “Ow! I think I burnt my tongue…”

She cuddled a little closer as the film went on, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Maybe hoping he would just a little. His eyes were glued to the television screen.

…

The film came to a close, and she leaned further against him.. “Hairy, Hairy!” the rabbit shouted, doing her best impression of the vixen from the movie they had just finished.

“Lay off carrots, you know you liked it.” Nick said. He wrapped his arm around her and her entire body caught fire.

_Baby_

“It… _was_ a pretty nice night all things considered.” She confessed.

“See, we should do this more often.” He replied, gazing at her affectionately.

“Nah”

“What do you mean ‘nah’?”

“The movie wasn’t what made this night memorable.”

Neither of them had the courage to say anything for a while.

Nick broke the silence. “Carrots… _Judy_ , thank you. For everything. You didn’t need to take care of me, or take me in. I can’t even begin to tell you how important this all is to me.”

“My couch is _always_ open to a friend like yourself.” She assured him, nuzzling a little deeper into his chest.

And he let her.

And he wrapped his arms around her.

And within minutes he was snoring.

She loved him, and she knew it. She was more certain of that fact than most other things nowadays.

She’d sleep better this night than she had any night before.

~~~

The fox listened as the rabbit walked back down the hall, listening as the tumblers fell into place, again, and she was sealed away from him.

Safe.

Again.

Then he fell asleep for the first time that night.

 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh  
> Oh my god.  
> Oh my god I am so sorry.  
> Yes, this chapter has been weeks in the making.  
> Yes, the authors note at the end of the previous installment would have you believe that I was going to update at least sometime soon.  
> Yes, I am a terrible, terrible human being.  
> In spite of all these indisputable facts, I’d like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading this far. My god how I need to thank you. These past few weeks have been stressful to say the least. I just moved to a new city, and me being the neurotic person I am, the thought of being in a foreign place with completely new people sent me hurtling through the throes of anxiety. Actually moving was quite a hellish experience, and these past few weeks have felt like I was living in a state of transience, where nothing quite felt real. I also just started my first year at the University of California Riverside, so the transition from high school to college was a tad jarring. Needless to say, I didn’t spend much time writing.  
> But  
> Things are better now! I met plenty of new people and have sort of made a home for myself here. I’ve developed a writing schedule that allowed me to put some time into writing this story while still balancing school work/studying, and in general things are sort of looking up.  
> All of this being said, I’m going to level with you and just say it now. The frequency of updates is probably not going to be much greater than it is right now. It won’t be quite as slow, but it’s not going to be weekly. A lot of work goes into this story, and it still ends up coming out at a significantly lower quality than I’d like it to. Looking back on this chapter I can already see several things I’d like to fix, but you’ve all waited long enough. If I hold onto this thing any longer I may just never get it out. I wish I could update as quickly as some people do, but it just isn’t me. This story requires a lot of forward thinking. Chapters will pose questions that won’t be answered until several entries later. Little references are strewn about for you guys to find and enjoy if that’s your sort of thing. The story is (supposed to be) written in a way that encourages the reader to look beyond the surface. I’m just not capable of managing all of this and getting it out on a week by week basis.  
> That all being said, please tell me what you did and didn’t like about this update. As I previously stated, I’m not too big of a fan of it myself, so your feedback is invaluable to me. Seriously, lay it on me. I swear I’ll only cry a little.  
> But seriously, someone needs to hire a hitman who will assassinate me if I don’t reach my quota of 2k words a day.  
> Until next time, have a nice week!


	3. They Could Have Been Wilde Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People and animals alike come and go. You’ll meet and intermingle and love and hate and leave your mark on one another, and then you’ll die. Or they’ll die. Or maybe you’ll just part ways. No matter how the cookie crumbles, relationships are fleeting and we should try our damnedest to hold onto those moments. Unfortunately, some mammals don’t have such luxury.

“And the Jackal, what happened to him?”

Jack Savage, after rubbing his troubled eyes with his coat sleeve, cleared his throat before addressing the figure sitting across from him.

“We failed to apprehend him,” he explained, “Nicholas Wilde tried to catch the guy, but it must have been too late. By the time, we managed to get through the door, the gangster was gone.”

“So, the fox let him get away?”

The rabbit placed a paw on the table between them. “No, no… he just couldn’t catch him in time. Collared as he is, I’m surprised the guy even made the attempt.” The buck laughed nervously, wiping his sweaty forehead.

Pen hit paper, spritzing the air of the tiny room with the sound of frantic scribbling. Jack shifted around in his seat a bit, turning this way and that, but the tin chair was practically impossible to get situated upon. It was tiny, even by rabbit standards, and the metal was cool to the touch. As the figure continued to scribble out his notes, Jack’s eyes wandered around the dimly lit debriefing room for the umpteenth time that night.

Why did he agree to turn in the report? Of course, they were going to want to ask questions, they always do.

_Whatever_ , just a little while longer and he’ll be warm in bed. It’s been a long day, and dealing with a pouty fox certainly didn’t make it _feel_ any shorter, but soon enough he’ll be back at his apartment.

The rabbit slumped back in his chair slightly, still trying to find some allusive comfortable position to wait out the rest of his interrogation.

_Just gotta survive a few more questions Jack, then we’ll be home._

He did nothing to still his quivering paw, gently shaking the old wooden table it rested on.

“Ok, so Wilde aided the Jackal in his escape.”

“No”

“No?”

Jack’s eyes widened a little, more so in exasperation than in surprise. His paw shook a little harder. In his agitations, his ears stood up on end.

“No”

More scribbling.

Jack looked at his watch again, only to be horrified by what he saw.

2:00 in the morning. Tonight, was going to be the night he caught up on his beauty sleep, but that idea seems to have flown the coop. No matter, any sleep at all sounded nice at this point. He’s so tired. So very, _very_ tired.

“…How can you be so sure that he didn’t help the jackal escape?”

“I…” the jackrabbit rose his paw from the table only to let it come crashing back down. His heart stopped for a moment. Did he step out of line?

“I… guess I can’t be certain.”

Pen met paper again.

“But…”

The pen stopped writing.

“I believe he…”

“Go on.”

“I believe he’s trying his best to aid us in solving this case. He spoke with a witness from the diner after the conflict and was able to draw information from her that she withheld from us. The same information you have on that clipboard in front of you.”

“A witness withheld information?”

Jack’s words caught in his throat.

“I…misspoke.” he wiped his dribbling sweat from his brow again. “But he managed to help her remember, or something.” He placed his paws in his lap.

“When we agreed to make a deal with the fox, we were under the assumption that he would be helping us locate the bear- “

“And he is!” Savage interrupted. “He’s trying his best. The guy hasn’t been in contact with Koslov for years, you have to understand that these things take time-”

“Officer Savage.”

The jackrabbit looked the figure in the eyes.

He shivered just a tad.

“Keep an eye on him, or he’s going back, and they’ll pick up right where they left off.

The buck swallowed hard.

“Dismissed.”

…

Stepping out into the hallway, where only a few lightbulbs projected faintly their feeble light upon the path inside ZPD headquarters, Jack Savage slumped against the wall, head in his paws. The world in that instance seemed about as muted as the luster the bulbs provided.

“I need a drink.”

…

She tossed and turned beneath her covers.

~~~

“But what if I can’t make it over the wall? Do you know how _tall_ ten feet is?”

The rabbit rolled her eyes.

“Of course, I scaled it. You will too.” She explained, kicking her feet up onto the desk in front of them.

“But I’m not you, Judy!” he cried, “Oh god, and if I trip while walking the balance beam? _What then?”_ the fox asked, trying his hardest to steel his nerves.

_“_ You won’t, and if you do, you get up and keep going.”

“Ok…” the vulpine took a deep breath before exhaling deeply. “ _Ok_.”

The veteran police officer turned her head to get a better view of the cadet currently working his way through the academy obstacle course just outside the classroom window.

“Wait, so I start off by pushing the truck to the dotted line…”

The bunny nodded, still watching the cadet as he struggled to climb the ice wall.

“And then I…”

“You lift the tire out of the truck bed and carry it back to where you started.” She finished.

“What the _fuck_!” the fox sputtered, slamming his paws onto the table. “How the hell did _you_ manage to carry a tire that large. Those things weigh a ton! I couldn’t carry one and you’re half my size!”

She turned back to him and rested her chin in her paw, giving him a dreamy, smug grin.

“I carried it, and I’m sure you will too.”

The fox gripped tufts of the spicy orange fur on his head and pulled, frustrated. He worked so hard to get here, failure isn’t an option. But what if he fails? What if? The uncertainty of it all could choke the life out of a lesser mammal, and he wasn’t so sure he didn’t fit that category.

“It’s funny, most cadets lose their minds studying for the written portion, but the fitness exam is what drives my slick guy to tears?”

He looked her in the eyes and snarled.

She suppressed the urge to giggle as he bore his teeth at her.

_I love you, what are you doing? Do you think I could possibly be scared of you?_

“I’m _not crying_. And the written exam will be easy. I know the material, but I also know myself.”

 “Do you now?”

He let his face hit the desk and wrapped his paws around his ears.

“Enough to know that I’m no athlete.” He mumbled, face still firmly planted on the old wooden desk, breathing in its piney scent. “I’m so not cut out for this line of work, it’s not even funny.”

The rabbit sighed before dragging her chair a little closer to his. She tenderly placed her paw on his back and rubbed gently.

“What’s got you so worried anyways, scruff? It’s not like you to sweat the little things.”

“I’m fine” was his muffled response, wrapping his arms around his face.

“You know I don’t like seeing you upset.”

“I’m not”

“This isn’t like you.” She persisted.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her paw gently traced its way to the nape of his neck, caressing the area softly, and he let her.

He let her see and do a lot of things he would never let another mammal see or do. She brushed his bushy tail on Wednesdays after work and she let him bury his face into her shoulder when everything in the world is turned onto its head.

“Talk to me.” She said.

The fox lifted his head and turned in her direction before laying back down on the table.

“C’mon foxy”

The fox rolled his eyes at the silly nickname, not that he was in any position to judge other mammals on the silliness of the nicknames they gave him. He took a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m a little scared.”

“Scared of what?”

He frowned.

“I’m scared I won’t be good enough.” He sat up again, pulling rubbing his wrist nervously. “You deserve a partner you can trust with your life, Judy, and if I can’t be that mammal then- “

She placed her paws on his shoulders.

“Nick, I _know_ you’ll make a great cop.”

 She pressed her forehead against his.

“Stop worrying” she whispered. “I trust you with my life and nothing will ever change that.”

She smiled at him, and he finally smiled back.

“And when you pass, we’ll celebrate back at my place.”

The fox chuckled lightly before leaning away from her, wiping his eyes with his palms. If there was one thing that dumb little bunny was good at – aside from being the best cop Zootopia has ever seen – its inspiring those around her.

“I think I’d like that” he told her.

“I’d like it too.” She replied with a grin. “But you can’t use my shower anymore, not after last winter’s sleep over.”

The fox’s smile dropped.

“C’mon, my coat gets really long during the colder months, I can’t help it! It isn’t my fault that you short haired bunnies aren’t used to cleaning the drains- “

“ _You’re up Wilde_!” came the call from the drill instructor.

The fox’s ears shot up as he turned towards the source of the voice before quickly shifting his attention back to his rabbit companion, his face panic stricken. She placed her paw on his.

“Get out there and knock ‘em dead.”

_I love you, Nicholas Wilde._

~~~

The rabbit opened her eyes and looked up into the face of abysmal reality, her bedroom ceiling a sickly, corpse white color.

…

The frigid water from the showerhead soaked her to the bone as she stood under it, scrubbing between her long, floppy ears, making sure to run her soapy paws over every inch of the tall stalks. She didn’t so much as shiver as she went about her usual morning routine.

Scrub your ears.

Scrub your head.

Scrub your torso.

Scrub your legs.

Scrub your feet.

Rinse, repea-

_Wait._

_Look down._

Something was caught in her drain. Something wet and _red_ and scraggily and all too unfamiliar and yet _entirely_ familiar at the same time. She reached her paw out towards the drain with a pained apprehension, unsure of what nasty thing she might just pull up. The paw shook. She gripped the tangled mess of whatever-it-is and tugged gently, yanking the muck out of its resting place. It sagged in her paw and she immediately realized what she had just dug up.

She cried until she decided it was time to get out and start her day.

…

“Thanks”

“No problem” the rabbit told the fox as she held the bar door open.

A pretty purple tinge struck the fox’s sensitive eyes as he walked inside, and the jazzy chanting from the badger singing swing tunes on stage intermingled with the crack of cards being played on table tops, the melodious mixture nestling inside his ears and swimming into his brain. It was actually kind of nice. It was _really_ nice, _actually_. Where was this place when he used to do bar runs back in the day?

“Does he usually ignore phone calls?” Nick asked, scanning the room for what may just be his least favorite rabbit.

“No…” she said, deep in thought. “He’s usually pretty good at picking up.”

“Juudithhhh!” a voice called out to them from across the dark bar, its owner hanging onto the “-th” of her name too long to be sober. “and Nicky! _Nicky Nick!_ C’mon ova here!”

At the main bar, sat comfortably on a barstool taller than he was, Jack savage called out to the pair; waving his drunken paws to get their attention. He was by no means dry when he first introduced himself to Nick, but the fox couldn’t help but note that the bunny was much tipsier this morning then he was yesterday.

“Juuuude!” he slurred as the fox and rabbit approached him. “Jude _please_ , have a seat.” he pointed at the bar stool beside him. “Both of you, _I insist_.”

Judy crossed her arms as she stared directly into the buck’s eyes. Neither of the mammals sat down. Jack let out an inebriated laugh and slammed his paws on the table. The Zebra barmaid across from him wiped down the surface he was pounding on, clearly not amused.

“How did ya find me anyways?” the jackrabbit asked.

“I had a feeling, I guess.” The doe replied. “Did you go home last night?”

The buck paused and pursed his lips, seemingly deep in thought. He looked at his watch.

“Hmm… I guess not.” He stated, taking another sip of his martini. “Ay Nicky, sit on down though. Lemma buy ya a drink.” He said as he patted the barstool next to him.

The fox cringed, his face wrinkling up as he gave the bunny an offended look.

“That’s a disgusting habit of yours, rabbit, trust me. If I were you I’d- “Nick paused mid-sentence. “Hey! Are you listening to me?”

The bucks tongue lulled from his mouth, his gaze focused on something over the fox’s shoulder. Whatever it was, he deemed it more important than the life advice he was receiving. That’s on him, if anyone knows what they’re talking about here its Nick.

The fox’s eyes followed Jack’s, curious to see what he was so enamored by, only to find that it was a trio of vixens, dancing to the sultry harmonies of the badger and jazz band.

The rabbit shook his head slightly, noticing that Nick had taken to staring at the same thing he had been a moment ago.

“Nicholas, _you old devil you_! There’ll be plenty of time to ogle the lady foxes later, for now we must focus on the task at hand.” He paused to let out a drunken hiccup. “Which is… what exactly?”

The fox sighed, finally taking a seat next to rabbit. Judy took the next stool down.

“I think I’ve got something of a lead on the Koslov case.” Nick explained, folding his paws out in front of himself atop the bar.

The jackrabbit seemed to sober up just a little bit in that very moment.

“Oh?”

Nick looked beside himself at Judy.

The words of a jackal rang in his mind:

_“How did you find Koslov all those years ago?”_

“Uh-huh.” He affirmed, nodding his head. “I can’t make any promises, but this is the best I’ve got.”

“Well, let’s hear it boy!” Jack called out excitedly, raising his glass in the air.

Judy scoffed, looking away from the drunk bunny.

_Unbelievably unprofessional._

“Alright, _alright_! But it’s going to take a bit of explaining. Do you think you’ll be able to stay conscious through most of it?”

The rabbit set his glass down and smiled brightly.

“I’m all ears my friend!” he said.

The tod chuckled so gently that you might have not heard it over the sound of the swing music if you weren’t listening intently.

“Yeah… yeah you are, _rabbit_.”

~~~

That strikingly red fox stood inside the burned out old smoke shop, tapping his foot in rhythm to the tiny pitter patter of rain as it hit the asphalt outside.

“Kid.”

Pitter pat

Pitter pitter _pat_

Pitter _-_

_“Hey, Kid! You’re holding up the line.”_ A slimy weasel called out to the boy, ushering him forward with a frantic wave of his paw. “I’ve other good patrons of this fine establishment waiting in line, and if ya aren’t going to hurry ya ass up I’d much rather serve them.” He called.

The vulpine scuttled forward, nearly tripping in his frantic shuffle to meet the cashier’s desk. He placed his paws upon the glass counter top and smiled. The weasel scowled at him.

He withdrew his paws and dropped the grin.

“What can I get for ya boy?”

The fox cleared his throat.

“I- “He croaked out.

He cleared his throat again.

“I would like to buy a pack of cigarettes, please?”

The weasel scoffed and turned his nose to the furry teenager in front of him.

“Alright, got a brand?”

The young customer pouted a little. He wasn’t expecting a test. Looking behind the weasel, his eyes passed over several different paper packages, all with their own logos and slogans plastered on front, eventually coming to a stop on the little picture of a camel in a cowboy outfit, cigarette in one hoof and a revolver in the other.

Now that is one _tough_ camel. If he could be half as cool as that camel, _just half_ , maybe he wouldn’t be so down on his luck. He made his decision.

“Ok, I’ll take the camel one.”

“The camel one?”

“The camel one.”

The weasel rolled his eyes, again, and turned around to fetch the pack.

“Here’s the cigs kid, 13 bucks.”

The fox’s eyes widened a little.

“Uh… isn’t that a bit overpriced for a pack of smokes?”

“Nah”

The teen gave a drawn-out sigh, eyes and ears drooping in resignation.

“I’ve got 10 dollars on me.” He said.

The weasel tapped his claws on the cardboard pack laid out in front of him. A tooth stuck out of his closed mouth, which in hindsight should have been laughable, but in the moment, it unnerved the fox.

“I- I can leave; I don’t mean to cause any trouble.” The vulpine started.

“No no, wait. I’ll tell ya what kid, work with me for the day and I’ll give you the pack. On the house.” The weasel said, a paw raised. “I’ll even throw in a lighter.”

The fox’s eyes narrowed, what was this guy getting at?

“Fine.”

…

A fox and a weasel sat atop wooden crates, reveling in a post work haze behind the curtain which separated the back room from the rest of the shop. The fox struggled to unwrap the plastic packaging his cigarettes were wrapped in at first, but eventually, with a quick swipe of his claws, he undid it like an old expert.

“Say, what’s your name kid?” the weasel asked, lighting his own cigar.

“Nick Wilde.” He said, turning the cigarette in his paws, star struck. “you?”

“They call me Sammie.”

“Well, Sammie, can I get a light?” the teenager asked.

As the weasel withdrew his lighter once more. Nick placed his cigarette in his muzzle and leaned in, waiting for it to be lit.

“What’re you doing, light it yourself” the weasel scoffed, tossing the lighter his way.

Nick caught it and brought the open flame to the stick in his mouth. He managed to take a few good puffs before choking, taking it from his lips so that he could hack and cough a few times.

“Yup!” he coughed again. “Yeah, that’s the good stuff alright.”

The weasel shook his head, his paws rubbing the area right below his scalp tenderly. He had to wonder what exactly it was that he got himself into by bringing this Reynard into his shop.

“What’s your deal kid?” he asked.

“Deal?” the fox responded, confused.

“Yeah, shouldn’t you be on your way home now? Its dark out.”

The fox looked at his feet, slowly placing his smoke back into his muzzle.

“You got one?” the weasel pried.

“Nah”

The scraggily fellow simply nodded his head knowingly, leaning back and puffing on his cigar some more.

The two sat in quietude for a little while, the sullied shimmers of their respective smokes serving as the only light source in the room. It was nice to be inside for once. It was doubly nice to have someone to chat with, even if he was a little gross looking and didn’t smell too good. Regardless, the fox didn’t have much reason to complain. Things just couldn’t get much better than this.

And then they did.

“You know kid, it’s nice having you around to help out and all, but have you considered getting a job of your own?” The weasel asked, breaking the silence.

“Well, I’m not so sure I could ever find a place that would take me.” The fox answered.

“How old are ye?”

The vulpine took a moment to answer.

“Oh, well…” his voice strained. “Seventeen, I suppose. Why?”

Sammie took his cigar from his mouth to demonstrate how serious his next few words were to be taken.

“I do believe a jobs opened up not too far from here.”

“No shit? What’s it like?”

The weasel chuckled, his muzzle contorting into a strained grin.

“Well, and don’t run off now, but I do believe old Koslov is looking for new recruits. You heard of the guy?”

The fox pondered the name for a minute.

“No, doesn’t ring any bells…”

He pondered for another minute.

“Hey wait a second.”

The vulpine rose from his seat, grabbing his pack of cigarettes beside him.

“Hey now! Wait just a minute, no need to get all riled up!” Sammie pleaded, leaning forward with his paws raised defensively. “Take a seat son.”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for that sort of work sir…” Nick whined, clearly wanting to leave the discussion.

“Not cut- What!?” the weasel yelped, clearly surprised. “What do you mean you’re ‘not cut out for that line of work’? You’re a fox aintcha?”

Nick sat back down.

“Suppose I am.”

“So, there you go, a fox is a fox. Shifty little devils ya lot are. You said it yourself, not many places would be willing to take the likes of you, so why don’t you just throw your lot in where it belongs kid?”

Nick leaned forward and placed his elbow on his knee, and then his paw on his forehead, sitting as though he was deep in thought.

“Whaddya say?”

What’s a fox to do but be shifty? He’s no honest citizen.

What’s a fox to do but be a mobster? It’s not like he has much of a family otherwise.

What’s a fox to do but be a criminal? You ever see a vulpine police officer? Nicholas Wilde certainly hasn’t.

“Fine.”

…

“Yup, right up that way.” The weasel said, pointing down the street. “It’s a bit of a walk, but it will be well worth your time.” He said with the kind of grin that makes you want to trust a guy you know you really shouldn’t.

“Thanks Sammie.”

“No problem kid, you be careful out there.”

“I will, have a good one.”

The old warehouse by the bridge; that’s their base of operations in Savannah Central. The old weasel had insisted on walking him over, but the fox knew where it was. He’s lived under that very same bridge these last four years after all.

“Ok” he told himself.

_Back home again._

 

 

…

“Nice find boy!” the snowy white polar bear said, patting the little thief.

The fox lurched forward as the massive paw knocked him on the back jovially, scrambling to catch his screwdriver before it rolled off the table. The guy was a lot shorter than most bears – what, with his short, stubby legs – but he certainly carried the same punch.

“Thanks Alexei. Nicked it off the vending machine during last night’s heist.” The youth replied, which earned him an uproariously loud cackle from the larger mammal and another swift bear paw to the back.

“Hahahahaha…” his comrade bellowed, wiping a tear from his eye. “I get it, ‘nicked’! Is because you are Nicholai! You foxes, _so funny_!”

Nick shook his head but couldn’t shake the grin plastered to his muzzle. He went back to work on machine he had laid out length wise across the table, a paw pressed against its side to prevent it rolling away – he had used an old trashcan to form the body – and another paw working on its insides. He gingerly turned the gear he had “procured” from the heist every which way in an attempt to find an angle in which it would fit in, but he had little luck actually getting it to play nice with the rest of the machinery. What was he doing wrong? He wasn’t much of a mechanic, but if he wasn’t imaginative-

_“Aha_!” the fox roared, catching his large, fuzzy companion by surprise.

“What! What!?” the bear cried, looking at the fox in confusion.

“ _Ok_ , Alexei, hold this.” The fox requested, closing the ease-of-access door to the machine and offering his newly-finished contraption to the polar bear.

Alexei knelt by the desk, fumbling the object slightly as he tried to grasp it; its cylindrical shape making it all too easy to lose your grip on.

“Ok, is hold.” The bear affirmed him.

“Awesome, thanks.” The fox said, scribbling something down onto his notepad. “Alright big guy, this next request is going to seem a little odd; but do you see that flat part sticking out of the top?”

Alexei took a paw off the machine; only to return it when the damned contraption nearly slipped from his grasp again. Cautiously, he removed his paw again and pointed a claw at the leveled bar of metal jutting out from the rest of the machine; raising an eyebrow for confirmation.

“Yup! I’m gonna need to ask you to bite down on it.”

The bear’s eyes grew, concern taking over his face.

“Why you want me to break new toy already? Dere is plenty of time for dat later.”

“Trust me, it can take it. It’s _supposed_ to measure bite strength, so it’s made to handle all kinds of abuse” Nick explained, leaning back in his chair as we anxiously awaited Alexei’s chomp.

“Is good?”

“All good”

The polar bear bit the corner of his mouth, his eyes betraying his still-incredulous attitude, but he placed the metal bar in his maw.

He looked at the fox one last time, trying to give him another chance to back out of this.

The fox blinked.

Alexei gripped the sides of the canister tight, his massive fangs crushing the bit with ease. It was nothing but a mangled mess by the time he let it go.

“Ah, sorr- “the bear paused, the insides of the contraption whirring violently. By the sound of it, something seemed to have dislodged itself from its appropriate place, banging up against the walls that held it together.

The fox and bear shared a concerned glance at one another.

“Is good?”

“No… I don’t think it should be doing that- “

The door to the machine exploded open, hurling its parts out towards the fox and polar bear; Alexei’s soft, thick fur easily absorbing the impact of the bits and bobs as they struck him.

Nick peeked out from under his arm; making sure that the danger was over.

“Well, that didn’t work _at all_ like it was supposed to…”

“I…” the polar bear started, “I very sorry Nicholai…”

He placed the damaged machine back on the table.

“Don’t worry about it big guy.” The fox said, patting the machine lightly. “I’ll just need to work some of the kinks out. The sensor could probably do with some extra padding though.

“So, no new toy today?” the bear asked Nick, the vulpine getting up; taking the machine in his arms.

“Fraid not” the fox replied, setting the soon-to-be bite strength tester down in the pile of projects he swore he’d get around to working on.

“Mmm…” the bear hummed. “You know, Nicholai, you pretty good at making things.”

The fox laughed, brushing his paws off on his shorts.

“They’re little things, but they help pass the time.” He said, waving his paw dismissively.

“Really, is better now that you here. Toys make it not boring, you’re good at that. We all agree.”

The fox smiled.

“So, did you have something to tell me, or did you just want to chat?”

The bears pupils dilated, as if something he had forgotten had just come up from behind him and knocked him on the back of the head.

“Ah, I meant to say boss want to talk with you but I forget!”

“ _What_!?”

The fox took off running to the back of the ware house, trusting his forgetful friend would watch over his things.

“Tell me what he say!” the bear shouted after him with a wave.

~~~

“Oh boy! You were a mechanic?” the jack rabbit shouted with a raised glass in his paw, upsetting the tranquil atmosphere of the bar, turning heads to stare him in the drunken smile which sat upon his muzzle.

Judy forcibly lowered his paw, the toast no more.

“No, I just liked fudging around with trinkets in my spare time. Kept us busy when we weren’t… _out_.” The fox explained, his face lowering into a scowl. “Don’t really have the time or drive anymore though. Haven’t for a while.”

“ _Let the guy finish_.” The doe insisted.

~~~

Turning the corner, Nick steeled himself for whatever Koslov had in store for him today. The bear had been making it his goal to subject the fox to some of the hardest tasks any mammal in the mob had to perform.

For reasons, unbeknownst to all.

Really, he’d have no home without the bear, and it’s kinda nice to have this much responsibility. It gives a fox a purpose; though truth be told, he wouldn’t have minded toilet duty for the first month or s-

The vulpine scrambled to regain his balance as he tripped over the leg extended before him.

“Hey!”

“Hey yourself” the leg’s owner snarked, snickering sadistically as he leaned back against the shelves leading towards the break room.

Nick locked eyes with the gaunt fox before him, both vulpine standing at the around same height, give or take a few centimeters.

“You’re a fuck, Phipps, you know that?” Nick said, smoothing out the frazzled fur sticking up on his bushy tail. He started to walk again.

“Hey, what’s the- “the other vulpine stammered, tripping over his own feet as he leaned off the shelf, leaving Nick to roll his eyes, “ _What’s the rush?_ ” The fox – Phipps, apparently – finished in a tone laden with false-confidence.

“The boss wants to chat, again.”

Phipps’ snarky expression faded, now replaced with a pained look of annoyance. His ears flattened out against the top of his red head.

“You’re like his fucking pet, Wilde; it’s gross.” He said as he looked away, rubbing his chin tenderly.

Almost wistfully.

Nick squinted at the other fox, picking his next words carefully, “I don’t see why you’re always such a jerk. I’m the only guy around here willing to even give you the time of day; doesn’t that count for something?”

“That’s my point! Nobody in this shit hole even knows my name! It can’t be because I’m a fox, cause you are too, and everyone straddles _your_ lap just fine!”

Nick flinched.

“And it can’t be that I’m just not pulling my weight around here; nobody trusts me with a job any more important than bathroom duty!” the fox continued, his feet paws tapping against the cement floor, clearly agitated. “And it just isn’t at all _fair_ that _you, the new guy_ , get to…”

Nick spaced out as the fox yammered on and on. He’d heard it all before, and wasn’t particularly keen on hearing it all again, but he knew walking away now would only stir up a new shit storm to be weathered. Instead, he listened and nodded as if at least a few words coming out of the scrawny fox’s mouth – the maw of that skinny doppelganger – meant anything to him at all.

“-and the worlds gonna know me one day, Wilde, I’m telling you that; I said I’m telling you that!” the other fox finished with a huff, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath following his – decidedly long-winded – speech.

“I get it man…” Nick said, shaking his head groggily as he made to walk away again.

“You get it?”

“I get it.” The fox repeated, throwing his paws in the air, unsure of what else the guy wanted him to say.

Phipps wasn’t asking for much, and resolved instead to shove Wilde back violently (or as violently as a fox with noodle arms can shove), snarling unimpressively. “Fucking _better_ get it…”

Nick continued down the dimly lit path towards the back of the building, careful not to look back and meet the other fox’s contemptuous gaze.

…

The single light bulb hung from the loose cable strung across the backroom could barely cast a yellow light strong enough to shine through the thin veil Nick had to push through just to step inside.

“Wilde, what took you so long?” the panther sitting on the other side of the repurposed picnic table asked, his posture straightening out as the fox walked into the room.

“Sorry man, had a few things crop up.” Nick explained, taking his seat on the bench, “How long has he been waiting?”

“Longer than he should have been. You’re lucky he likes you.”

“Alright, alright, give us some privacy, will ya?”

The panther rolled his eyes and flexed his claws, rapping the pointed edges across the table before getting up to leave the room.

“Let me know what he says, kid.”

Nick turned his attention to the machine sat upon the table, not bothering to look back at his comrade as he waved him off. He picked up the bulky set of headphones beside it and clamped them on place around his ears so that they sat snug. He positioned the Morse key in front of himself.

Admittedly, the fox thought it was a strange idea to use an electric telegraph machine to communicate with other mob outposts, but Alexei insisted that nobody would think to intercept a telegram in this day and age, and if he was telling the absolute truth; it was kinda cool learning Morse code.

His anxious fingers flittered around till they found the straight key, and in doing so, they reflexively tapped out a greeting to whoever waited on the other end of the line.

From the answer, he’d gauge how mad the bear was after being kept waiting, and from there he’d reason out how severe his punishment was likely to be.

Electrical chirps quickly found their way into his ears.

“Wilde.”

Oh boy, this can’t be any good.

“Yes sir?” the fox tapped.

“Word has reached me of your most recent successes.”

Oh?

“And I believe congratulations are in order”

_Oh?_

“Thank you, sir.” The fox keyed in.

“I have a request.” Came the bear’s response.

“Yes sir?”

“You don’t have to accept should you not want to.”

There was a full stop.

“Do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“You’re a valuable asset to have around.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I believe you’d be all the more useful stationed closer to me.”

_What?_

“Will you transfer to the tundra town district?”

~~~

“Well?” the jack rabbit asked, still totally tongued out.

The fox coughed into his arm before turning his attention back to jack, “Well what?”

“Well, did ya accept the offer?”

Nick frowned before shaking his head sternly.

“That’s neither here nor there.” He explained flippantly, “What matters is that I’d bet you my bushy tail that the old machine we used to contact each other might just still be there.”

“But wouldn’t it be safe to assume that the mob is still there, at least in some form?” Judy asked.

“I doubt that. Last I’d heard, the place was abandoned during a ZPD raid years ago in a hurry; I doubt the old bear’s most recent recruits would be stationed this close to the police station again.”

Judy hopped off the barstool, pushing it in. “Then we should get going.”

“I’d be happy to, if Jack would be willing to get up.” Nick replied as he stood.

“Well, I suppose it’s time better spent then it would be sitting around here drinking.” the jackrabbit said with a loud guffaw, slamming his paws down on the table repeatedly as if he had just cracked the best joke of his life, “Ayy Anna?”

She wasn’t laughing.

“Get this joker out of here, before he goes and swallows his damn tongue. I don’t need that situation on my hooves.” She said, throwing her dirty washrag down onto the table.

Nick and Judy nodded to the barmaid in understanding, helping him off the barstool and on to his feet.

…

“This the place?” Judy asked, rolling up to the front of the abandoned warehouse.

“It’s the place” came the reply from behind her.

The car’s engine was flicked off.

It was cold out, again, and Judy’s paws were almost too numb to grip the door handle necessary to let Nick out of the back of the cruiser.

Jack tumbled out of the passenger seat, crunching ice underfoot as he tried to brace himself against the car door.

Nick curled his toes in an effort to wake them up before stepping out into the wintery morning. He took note of the poster plastered lopsided on the warehouse wall.

“ _Is this Tomorrow?_ ” read the poster in bold, black letters. Featured prominently upon the face of the sign was an artist’s rendition of Savannah Central, set ablaze. The fox squinted at it.

It was raining, and following the same rules as just about everything else in the city today, when it rained it poured.

“Jack, give me a- “Judy grumbled the words out as she attempted to pry the warehouse doors open, “gimme a paw, _would ya_?”

The buck toddled over to her, slipping and sliding on the slightly iced asphalt. The two struggled against the doors, trying their hardest to wrench them apart. They wouldn’t budge.

“The handle… _it’s so cold.”_ Jack mumbled with a shiver, rubbing his fluffy white paws together.

Nick stood by and let them yank on it a little while longer, eventually raising a pointed finger.

“You know, it’s cold today and I kinda want this over with. Why don’t you guys just follow me.”

The rabbits looked at one another and then at the fox, who was now walking around the side of the building. Shrugging it off, they followed him. They watched as he closed a dumpster’s lid and climbed atop it.

“Now, I know this way in wasn’t made with rabbits in mind,” he explained as he shimmied up a gas pipe built next to the dumpster, “drunk rabbits even less so- “he continued, reaching the end of the pipe and scampering up on top of the roof, “- but the front entrance has been bolted shut for as long as I can remember, so you guys are going to need to suck it up and climb.

Jack sucked his tongue back into his mouth and clasped his quivering paws out in front of himself, forming a step for Judy to stand upon. She sighed, but obliged him anyways, lifting him up once she herself manage to scale the dumpster.

As they wriggled up the pipe after him, Nick slipped through the warehouse skylight and dropped into the building below.

…

The rabbits peered down the now open skylight, and watched as the fox carefully made his way down a series of storage crates. They followed him down the same path and onto the floor below, careful not to land on anything sharp.

“It’s… dark.” Judy said, squinting against the blackness.

“I’d offer to turn the lights on, but I doubt anyone’s stuck around to pay the electric bill.” Nick explained.

“Any uh…” Jack stammered through his words as he stumbled through the dark room, “Uh… you know where this _thing_ is?”

“I have a few ideas.” The fox replied, beginning the walk down the ever-spanning aisles of storage shelves. “but, shouldn’t we like, get a warrant before doing shit like this?”

The rabbit cops chuckled dryly in unison, as if the fox had just finished a humorless joke.

The entire building possessed a certain dankness, which wrinkled the animal’s noses as they explored it’s every nook and cranny. The rabbits tripped over most anything there was to trip over as they followed Nick through the inky room. They conceded to trusting that the convict knew his way around and wouldn’t try to eat them as they searched through the dark.

“Oh, _wow_.” Nick whispered, stopping abruptly in their path.

Judy dug her heels into the cool floor to avoid bumping into him. “You find it?” she asked, rubbing her eyes as she tried to get a better look at whatever it was that he had found on the shelf.

“Nope, even better.”

The rabbits groaned in unison.

“My old moving box is still here! I guess I forgot to take the thing with me, “the fox explained in an impassioned tone, “gah-lee! I haven’t seen some of this stuff in ye- “

“Nick!” Judy exclaimed curtly.

“Right, _right_. If I had to guess, it should be right up here,” he explained, pointing down the hall.

“Right up where?” the jackrabbit asked, rubbing his temples groggily.

“In the back room, over there, see?” he gestured down the hall again.

“We don’t see, but we’ll take your word for it.”

Nick rolled his eyes – not that they would have seen it – and held his paws out to them.

“I’d like to get this over with sometime today, ya know?” he said.

“Us too.” Jack agreed.

.

.

.

“Well, take my paws; I’ll guide you from here.”

.

.

.

“What pa- “

Nick interrupted the doe, grabbing both her and her partner’s wrists before starting the walk down the hall at a brisk pace.

…

“That’s it…” he whispered, sticking his head through the veil of the back room.

“It’s _actually_ still here?” Judy asked, the shock clear in her voice.

“Guess they hadn’t thought to take it with them…” the fox thought aloud, letting the rabbits go and sitting down across from the machine. He ran a paw across the top of the old telegraph, kicking up dust and sending himself into a sneezing fit.

“Here, give me a minute. Ima see if I can’t start it.”

The two rabbits stood aside and let the fox tinker, watching in silence as he tested the key, unplugged the headset and gave it a few hard thwacks.

Judy shivered, rubbing her shoulder anxiously.

“Hey- “Jack whispered, grabbing his partner’s attention.

“You good?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m good.” She replied.

“You’ve been in a sour mood all day. Like, a sour-er mood then usual.”

She resisted the urge to kick him to the floor.

“Everything’s a mess right now.”

“Really?”

The doe sighed, clutching her forehead. She looked up to see the fox still hard at work on the machine.

“Not everything…”

“So, what’s up?” he asked, rubbing his own forehead.

The buck seemed to be sobering up a tad.

She sighed again.

“Yesterday, when I went to get my meds…”

“Uh huh?”

“They’re out of stock, Jack. I’ve only got enough left for tonight and tomorrow.”

If he hadn’t been sober before, he was now.

“Are you su- “

“I’m sure. I checked last night, I don’t know what I’m going to- “

“ _Guys_ ”

The bunnies turned their attention back over to the fox, who had already stood up from his place near the telegraph.

“It’s no good, the things busted.”

The warehouse in that moment became just as silent as it had been before the trio stepped inside.

“I’m sor- “

“Wait- “Judy cut the fox off.

“Don’t we have a mechanic in town?”

“Uh, yeah…” the jack rabbit confirmed, shrugging his shoulders, “I used to walk past the place on my way to my old bar.”

“Think they’d be able to fix it up?” she asked, turning her attention back to the fox.

“I mean- I... _I don’t know_. What are the chances he’s seen a telegraph in this day and age-”?

“C’mon, were not going to give up just yet.”

The two other mammals stood staring at her.

“ _C’mon.”_

_…_

_Joe’s Shack_

The old mechanic’s shop stood amidst other decaying buildings in the furthest corner of Savannah Central. The sign outside the door assured the occasional passerby that it was open, but the quiet interior of the building suggested otherwise.

“And just who are we looking for?” Nick asked, careful to let the heavy glass doors fall gently back into place as his companions entered the building after him.

“Someone by the name of Skyes, I guess.” Judy replied, looking at the name plate on the front desk. “A _Ms._ Skyes, apparently.”

Walking into the back room of the shop, the smell of oil and hard liquor struck them immediately and without warning. Greece stained rags littered the various workbenches set up about the room. Nick ducked under some heavy piece of machinery – an engine? – as he followed the rabbits further inside, the suspended hunk of metal swaying gently on its chains.

“H-Hello?” Judy asked aloud, hoping to draw the proprietor of the shop out of hiding.

“Hello?” she asked again, this time a little more confident.

“It’s a mess in here… think she got stuck under her own junk?” Nick asked, placing his paws on his hips as he scanned the room.

“Wouldn’t be surprised- “the doe responded, “-Hello? Ms. Skye’s? Are you working today?” she chuckled nervously, “the sign said you were open, so we let ourselves in. I hope that’s alright.”

Nick let out a whistle as he leaned in to take a closer look at an old radio which sat in three pieces atop another rusty workbench.

“She tinkers quite a bit, huh?”

“Looks like it- “Jack said, reaching for a wrench sat on one of the ten wooden stools strewn about the room.

He dropped it to the floor with a loud clang, the three mammal’s ears rising to attention in unison.

“Heh heh… heavier than one might- “he paused, raising an eyebrow, “Huh?”

The animal’s ears stood at attention.

_Clink Clink Clink_

The sound of tools hitting the ground reverberated across the room.

“ _What gives you the right!?”_

_Oh no_

_“What gives you the right_ to touch _my_ things _?”_ a blond vixen asked, crawling out from under the nearby car she had been working on.

Her honey-toned fur was disheveled, her winter coat clearly having just grown in, much like Nick’s own.

“I didn’t- “Jack started, the words catching in his throat.

“You come into _my_ shop unannounced and move _my_ tools- “

“Ma’am, we called for you but you never- “Judy began, only to be interrupted by the vixen shaking her head dismissively. “It’s true ma’am. We really only need a moment of your time.” The doe finished, clasping her paws together, speaking with the sweetest tone she could muster.

The vixen wiped her greasy paws off on a rag she kept in the front pocket of her overalls, squinting at the rabbit as she spoke. Her gaze lingered on Judy’s ZPD issued jacket.

“ _Who are you_?”

“ZPD,” Jack explained pleasantly, approaching the fox with a paw extended to shake, “I’m officer Jack Savage, and this is- “

The fox flinched at his words.

She slapped the paw away.

“Get the fuck out of my shop.” The vixen spat, retching as if the words were poisonous to the taste.

“Ma’am- “Judy started.

“Get _out_.” She repeated, no less vitriolic than the first time. She turned away from the rabbits, her gaze passing over Nick as she looked back towards the car she had been working on.

_Wait_.

She turned to look at Nick once more, just to make sure her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

He smiled and wriggled his fingers at her in greeting.

She squinted back at him – she often did so when she had thinking to do – and opened her mouth, trying to find the words she needed to say.

“Are you… with them?” she asked, nodding at the tiny cops amongst them.

“Mhm.” He confirmed, languidly shrugging his shoulders as he nodded his head.

“ _Willingly?_ ” she continued, the answer to her question coming in the form of another nod.

She scoffed, placed her hands on her hips, looked down, shook her furry head.

“ _Why?_ ”

_A reasonable question to ask._

Nick took a moment to compose his answer, eventually opening his mouth to speak.

“They aren’t as bad as they look, I guess.” he explained, scratching behind his ears. “Well, I can’t speak for _that_ one,” he said, pointing at a befuddled Jack, “but _she’s_ a decent cop, from what I’ve seen at least.”

The vixen crossed her arms and sunk one of her sharp fangs into her bottom lip, toying with a few different ideas floating around in her head.

“Fine, let’s do business then.”

Judy’s eyes nearly popped right on out of her tiny skull as she watched the vixen shake paws with Nick before turning around to offer the same gesture to the doe.

“The name’s Angela Skyes, and anyone lucky enough to call me a friend addresses me with Angie.” She explained, forcibly taking the doe’s paw and shaking it, the bunny still horribly confused as to why the vixen’s attitude had so drastically changed in the last few seconds.

Jack smiled – no less confused than his partner, but ever an optimist – and held his paw out to the female fox, “Well, Angie, it’s our pleasure to- “

She slapped the paw away violently, leaving the white rabbit to cradle it against his suit jacket, a look of confusion – and a fair bit of anger – washing over his face.

“Paws to ourselves, _twerp_.”

“But- you!”

“ _Anyways_ ,” she spoke, taking care to cut the buck off mid-sentence, “What can I do ya for?”

“Mmm, hehe,” Judy giggled, clasping her paws together politely, “We’re actually looking for someone handy with _older_ equipment, do you know anything about that sort of thing?”

“Hm…” the vixen hummed, taking a seat on a nearby stool before giving the floor a kick, sending herself into a slow, three-sixty-degree spin, “What have you got in mind?”

“Ever seen a telegraph?” Nick asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Telegraph?” Angela repeated, kicking again so as to send herself into another spin. “How did you go about finding one of those?”

“Warehouse. We found it in an old warehouse.” Jack explained, still nursing his poor paw.

.

.

.

“Well?” the vixen asked.

Nick’s ears stood at attention.

“Well what?” he questioned back.

“Well, how did you guys get your paws on such a thing?” she repeated, leaning back against her work bench.

Jack groaned.

“It’s down at an abandoned warehouse, not too far from here. The contraptions integral to our current investigation, but we think it’s broken.” Judy chimed in.

“Current investigation, huh?” Angela repeated with a click of her tongue. She looked back at Nick, then at the collar set tight around his neck. “You guys gonna drive me down there?”

“Yes, absolutely. We’re also willing to pay you a- “Judy began, only to be cut off by the chirps and buzzes from her ringing cell phone, “Um, one moment…”

She stepped aside to answer the phone, leaving the other three mammals to stew in an uncomfortable silence. Jack looked away each and every time Angela caught him staring. Angela occasionally looked over at Nick, a sentence seeming to bubble up towards the tip of her tongue every time she peeked, but never finding its way out into open air. Nick watched his feet.

The doe returned, walking briskly to reunite with her companions.

“Nick, they uh…” she paused, looking up at him, “they want us down at the penitentiary.”

She waited for the fox’s reaction, watching as he simply shrugged his shoulders.

“Ok…” she whispered, turning to her partner, “Jack, help Ms. Skyes pack for the trip down to the warehouse. We’ll try to make this quick.”

Jack turned to look the vixen in the eyes as his two other companions walked to the front of the store. She seemed to issues him a silent challenge, which he gladly accepted.

_…_

“We seem to have had-“

The rabbit and fox sat frozen to their seats, the frigid temperature of the warden’s office icing their veins.

“-an error in communication.” The lynx explained, leaning far enough back in his chair that they could see his round belly sticking out above his belt.

“Excuse me?” Judy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It was to my understanding that you had sworn to report every slip up this fox made…”

“Right.” The doe confirmed.

“That was part of your responsibility as his… _assigned officer_.”

She nodded.

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but the fox _did_ allow a suspect to escape.”

The rabbit’s buck teeth bit into her tongue.

“Then I’ll correct you.” Judy stated brazenly, her paws placed firm in her lap, “You received our report, did you not?”

“I did.”

Judy’s eyebrow arched further upwards, almost patronizing the cat, “and you read, right?’

“Pardon?” the lynx whispered, sitting up in his chair.

“You can read?”

“ _Why- I most certainly hope so_!”

“Good, then we don’t have a problem. Jack saw just as much of the scene as I did, and he’d be able to tell you just as well as I could that Nicholas Wilde pursued the criminal to the best of his abilities-”

Nick’s collar buzzed gently.

“- And I know Jack wouldn’t lie when giving a report.” She grumbled something under her breath about the rabbit, “so I’m not quite sure where you get off accusing me of withholding information.”

“Yes, I read the report, Ms. Hop- “

“Lieutenant. _Lieutenant Hopps.”_

_“Right._ Lieutenant, I read the report, but I also read the debriefer’s note- “

“Debriefer’s note?” Judy echoed quizzically.

“Yes, well I suppose that’s none too important now. I’ll take your word for it this time, but I don’t want- “

“ _Wait._ ”

The lynx flinched; he gritted his teeth at the sound of the little rabbit interrupting him again.

“ _Who was the debriefer?_ ”

“That’s enough, Lieutenant Hopps. I’m going to have to ask you to wait outside while I check in with the prisoner you’ve been towing around.”

“ _Warden_.” She hissed, standing up from her chair.

“ _Get out.”_

Begrudgingly, she pushed her chair in and took her leave, allowing the warden his time with the fox.

…

The jackrabbit sat on the stool a little too tall for him and twiddled his thumbs as his paws sat in his lap, just as Angela demanded he do.

“I can- “

“No.” the fox barked, baring her teeth.

“but I- “

“ _No_.”

The bunny’s body shook as he sighed. He continued to watch the vixen load her back up with tools of various shapes and sizes.

“Officer Hopps suggested I lend you a helping paw.”

The fox rolled her eyes, still focused on the task at hand.

“What you possibly do to help me?”

“I could… pack? Just let me know what to grab and I’ll do it.”

She sighed, taking a moment to rub the migraine out of her skull before returning to work.

“I’m fixing a telegraph, not building a rocket. I don’t need a twerp helping me pack a pawful of tools.”

Jack’s eyelids dropped, not at all amused by the pet name. Sighing – as he had been prone to do as of late – he hopped from the stool, taking to looking around the shop again.

“… what are you doing?” Angela asked, eyeing the rabbit carefully.

Jack stuck one leg out carefully and took a step, followed by another.

And another.

And another.

“Looking around.” He replied, stopping in front of the care engine from before; the machine hanging from the chains linking it to the ceiling. He raised a paw as if to caress it.

“Don’t touch that.”

Jack looked at her.

He looked back at the machine.

Looked at her.

Looked at the machine.

At her-

He reeled his paw back, making eye contact with the vixen.

“ _Don’t_.”

At the machine.

He set his paw on course for the car engine, giving the hunk of metal a good smack.

He looked back at Angela, trying to gauge her reaction.

“I fucking… I don’t fuckin like you. No dude, I fuckin don’t.”

…

Judy let the door shut gently behind her, careful to avoid spoiling the eerie quietude of the penitentiary halls. A janitor wheeled his cart by the rabbit, leaving her to wonder how he’s managed to keep his job when the place looks like shit as it does.

A dash of reddish orange amongst the dull greys and greens of the prison halls caught her eye. It was some lanky guy who walked with his head held high and his paws clasped firmly behind his back.

_Kinda like he had a stick up his ass._

It was a fox.

Judy squinted at him and wrinkled her nose as he walked towards her, marching down the halls as if he himself were the warden.

“Barrymore.” She spoke as he finally reached her.

“Officer Hopps.” The fox snarked, smiling smugly.

“Don’t you have recruits to push around? What are you doing here at this hour?” the bunny asked, looking up to lock eyes with the fox.

“I’m here on important business.” He said, clasping a paw to his heart.

“What business?”

“None of yours, that’s for sure.”

The rabbit scowled.

“Still, I should be going soon, “he crooned, lifting his arm lazily so as to take a look at his watch, “The police department is honestly hopeless without me…”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’m going to wrap up my important business, and then I’ll be off.”

She rolled them again.

“But really though _, Judith_.” He said in a voice laced with icky sweetness as he placed a paw on her shoulder that was immediately shrugged off, “We _must_ catch up sometime.”

She gagged and saw him off with another scowl, watching as he continued down the sickly grey hall, only pulling her attention away from the fox when the door to the warden’s officer swung open.

…

“I don’t see why we can’t just play nice.” Jack said, leaning against the car while Angela fiddled around under its hood.

“because I don’t like you.” The fox replied, wrenching a part out of place.

“You just met me.”

“First impressions matter.” She explained, setting the part down across from her toolbox.

“And what was your first impression of me?”

The vixen wiped her brow with a clean rag before scratching at her nose.

“You’re an ugly twerp who touches things that don’t belong to you.”

His smirk tilted into a disappointed frown.

“I find it hard to believe that’s the only reason you don’t like me.”

She took a break from her labor, looking the rabbit down head to toe.

“Might be an ugly little thing, but you ain’t stupid.”

…

The two mammals sat perpetually locked in vicious combat. On one side of the rusty metal table Jack Savage existed, his chin resting firmly in his paws as he stared at the women across from him. Said women was none other than the Angela Skyes, who leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, muzzle contorted into a grimace.

Neither said a word.

.

.

.

“Fuck this shit.” The vixen grumbled, slamming her paws onto the table so as to get up.

The buck raised an eyebrow.

“ _You drink?_ ”

…

In the back room of the old mechanic’s shop sat a cot, a table and a kitchen. Angela stood on her toes to open the liquor cabinet, revealing a variety of booze kept in clear glass bottles.

“You got a preference, tiny?”

“The hard stuff, if you’ve got it.”

“Bourbon it is then.”

The pair took their seats at the small table in the middle of the room; Jack sat upon an overturned bucket because the vixen only had a single chair.

“Don’t get the wrong idea.” Angela explained, dropping a pawful of ice cubes into her drink.

“And what would that be?” Jack asked, sipping his drink.

“That I like you or anything. I just think I might be able to stand you better if I were drunk, and it’s no fun being drunk alone.

The rabbit scoffed, taking his glass from his lips with a shaky paw, “ _I_ know _I_ like me better when I’m drunk.”

The fox snorted, choking on the liquor.

“ _Ahem_.” She coughed, “Sorry about that, went down the wrong pipe.”

…

“ _Stupid Bitch_ ” the warden hissed under his breath, checking to make sure Judy had shut the door when she left the room.

Nick shuddered as a sharp shock coursed through his body, trying his hardest to shrug it off.

“-thinks she’s above me. If I hadn’t been ordered to maintain a cordial attitude, _why I’d_ \- “the lynx dug his claws into the desk separating him from Nick, “-and _you_ fox, you’d better be on your best behavior from here on out or I’ll have you back here in fucking instance, you hear that? I’ll fry your stupid ass quicker than a bugaburger _you son of a bitch_.”

The fox, taken aback by the warden’s outburst, stared at the fuming cat before opening his mouth.

“ _Do I make myself clear!?_ ” the warden shouted, rising out of his chair so as to scream in the fox’s face.

Nick rose to meet him.

“Ok, let’s get something straight here, _you don’t scare me_.”

“ _I should_.” The cat growled, leaning in a little closer.

Nick kissed his nose, the warden’s eyes crossing to track the smooch.

“Then try a little harder,” he said, patting the chubby cheeks in front of him and pushing his chair in, “I’ve tried being respectful, but you have to understand; that rabbit is anything but a stupid bitch. I can’t have some tub of shit walking around thinking otherwise, ya know?” he raised an eyebrow and nodded his head at the lynx, “besides, threats of death lose their affect when you ain’t got much to live for.”

The cat stared at him, stone faced.

“Now, if that’s all you needed to say, I figure my time might be better spent working on the case you Pidgeon-held me into doing, right?”

The lynx hadn’t blinked.

“Am I dismiss- “

“Nicholas- “the warden interrupted.

The fox looked on expectantly.

“There will come a day where your services will no longer be needed, you know that, right?”

Nick smiled.

“When that day comes- “

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Until next time, _sir._ ” The fox replied with a bow, and in doing so left the room.

…

Nick exited the office just in time to catch the red tail of another fox turn the corner.

“Who’s that?” he asked the rabbit.

“Some asshole.” She replied, looking down the hall again.

“We should get going.”

“Right.” He replied, looking down the hall empty hall again.

…

“And so, I tell em- I tell em ‘Names savage, Jack Savage’ and _boy_ you shoulda seen their faces!”

“ _Pfft._ ” Angela snorted again – a new habit – and clasped her paws to her muzzle so as to stifle a giggle, “you’re absolutely shitfaced, rabbit.”

“Ms. Skyes!” Judy’s voice called out from the main room.

“Jack?” Nick’s followed, slightly softer.

The two stumbled out of the back room and into the workshop, Jack greeting his friends with a lazy salute.

“Are you…” Judy began, eyeing the giggly rabbit.

“What did you do?”

The buck and vixen broke out into another fit of laughter, which the doe and male fox tried their hardest to shrug off.

“Look, we need to get going. Night’s going to be falling soon. Grab your stuff and meet us outside.” Judy explained.

.

.

.

Jack watched his friends walk out the front door and into the cold afternoon.

“Um, Thanks for the drinks….” He said, putting his overcoat back on.

Angela nodded, looking away.

“Don’t think this makes us cool or nothing; I just- “

“Right, right…” the buck interrupted, helping her gather her things.

…

“Alright, here comes the hard part.” Judy explained to the vixen as they watched Nick climb atop the dumpster lid. “We’ve gotta go in through the skylight up top, which means climbing the building.”

Angela simply hopped up the dumpster and began inching up the gas pipe after Nick, her tool box swaying to-and-fro from her shoulder. The doe watched on in a state of shock.

She turned to Jack, who simply wriggled his eyebrows and grinned dopily, holding his paws out for her to climb upon.

…

“And it’s right through here.” Nick explained, brushing the curtain to the back room aside. The group of mammals entered the small enclosure and, sure enough, the telegraph sat upon the table.

Angela gave a reflective whistle before sitting down across from the machine. She took a moment to caress its smooth sides before unlocking her toolbox.

“Part of me wasn’t so sure you’d _actually_ have one of these babies…”

.

.

.

The three other mammals watched the vixen in anticipation, eagerly awaiting the moment she’d begin to flex her paws and get to work.

Nick stood there, biting his claws anxiously.

.

.

.

“What… the fuck are ya’ll doin?” said the mechanic, looking up at the animals crowded around her.

The three exchanged glances amongst themselves, confused as to what she was talking about.

“I can’t very well work with ya breathing over my shoulder, now can I?” she explained curtly, “how about you guys just fuck off for a bit? I can call you in when I’m done.”

No one was sure what to say, so they settled for gaping wide-eyed at her in shock.

“I’m serious, this is a very intimate affair between _her-_ “she pointed a finger gun at the telegraph, “-and _I_.”

Nick and Judy turned to one another silently forming a response.

Jack was already out of the room by the time they looked back at him.

…

“Nick!” the vixen’s voice rang out, rousing the fox as he dozed off against a nearby shelf, “Nick, get in here!”

The other fox tangled himself amongst the curtains in his rush to get back inside the back room. He took a moment to twist himself out of the predicament and straighten the cloth out.

“What’s going on?”

“ _I fixed it_.”

“You…” he stammered, looking at the contraption in disbelief, “ _already_?”

“I think so.”

Jack grabbed a pawful of curtain and yanked it to the side, allowing both him and his partner to step into the room and join them.

“That was quick.” Judy said.

“What do you take me for? Of course it was quick.”

.

.

.

“Alright hot stuff, work your magic.” Angela commanded, getting up from her seat so as to let Nick take it.

The fox sat down, cautiously eyeing the machine.

“You know, it would be a funny thing if someone was actually on the other end of this thing. I don’t even know if I’d- “the fox stopped himself, resting his chin in his paws at he stared at the telegraph.

“I don’t know if I’d even remember Morse code if it came down to it, I mean it’s been years.” He continued in a whisper.

Angela tossed her head back and groaned. She placed two paws on the other fox’s shoulders.

“Listen here man, I didn’t come all the way down here and fix your stupid toy just for you to get cold feet,” she whispered into his ear, massaging his shoulders like a corner man would massage a boxer before the next round in the ring, “You owe me this.”

Nick froze.

“So, give ‘er a whirl.”

The vixen backed off, and Nick’s paw raised in the air, inching over to the key. He gingerly keyed down a few times, still not convinced this is going to actually work.

_Such a funny feeling to be doing this again._

He keyed the next phrase in, this time a little more confidently.

And waited.

Not a breath was breathed as the four watched the machine, waiting for some sort of reaction. A beep a whirr or a buzz.

Anything.

And it didn’t come.

“You know, I’m not really sure what I expected- “

Cutting the male fox off, the machine started up with a tone of its own. Nick’s ears perked up and his eyes widened in surprise as the message continued.

It beeped and whirred and buzzed.

The message finally stopped, and still not a breath was breathed, until:

“What… what did it say?” Judy asked in a voice almost as quiet as the silence which passed over the warehouse interior.

The fox stared at the machine in awe.

“ _’who are you_?’” he translated.

With a shaky paw, Nick keyed in his response.

He tapped out:

Two taps which preceded a tap following a long tone. Another long tone and a tap, a long tone and a tap. Four quick taps and three long tones.

Tap

Long tone

Tap tap

_Pause_

Tap

Long tone

Three more taps, and then the fox paused for an extended period time before starting up again.

Tap

Long tone and another long tone.

Tap tap

Pause

Tap followed by a long tone before two more taps joined it

He keyed in another long tone

Tap tap

Pause.

_Tap._

_Nicholas Wilde_

.

.

.

They prayed for a response

And then it came.

Nick listened intently as the tones sounded back to him. His paws clenched, digging his claws into his palms. He broke out into a cold sweat as he listened to what the mammal on the other end of the transmission was telling him.

_Meet us tonight_

He raised a paw.

He keyed in: “OK”

.

.

.

“What did it say!?” his companions cried in unison, crowding around the telegraph and suffocating the fox.

“They…uh…” he stumbled through his words before stopping. He looked at Judy, who stared back at him attentively. He took a second to admire the curvature of her mouth, the way it turned into a taut O whenever she begged him to tell her something. He watched as her little pink nose wriggled eagerly and noted the way her lavender eyes had grown to the size of her dish plates back at home.

“Its… just some old telegraph fanatic, they must’ve gotten a hold of the machine somehow.”

The three other mammals melted off him, taking their places a decent distance away. Nobody said anything for a moment, and that was perfectly fine with the fox.

“It was worth a shot…” the doe whispered.

…

They walked back to the front of the warehouse like a group of mourners – a funeral procession – when something caught Nick’s eye.

He stopped, and, bending over, chuckled to himself as he picked the something up.

“Well, I’ll be…” he mumbled, cradling the little plush toy in his paws.

It was a rabbit garbed in a ranger scout uniform. The button which once formed its right eye hung onto the fabric by a thin string, and it was a little dirty, but the thing was otherwise in a fine condition.

“An old friend?” Jack asked.

“Um…” Nick hummed, turning the doll around in his paws, “ _Yeah_ , suppose he is.”

“Not something I’d expect a fox like yourself to bring to a hide out.” Judy chipped in.

Nick rolled his eyes.

“I was young.”

“Not _that_ young.” Judy replied, but Nick was too preoccupied with the doll he now held in his paws to care.

“Boy, what I wouldn’t give for ma to see this old guy again…”

Jack smiled and motioned to say something, but the fox’s eyes had already glossed over.

~~~

“Ma!”

“Huh? Yes? _Yes!?”_ the vixen turned around and round in a complete circle twice, scanning the store aisle for her pint-sized son.

“Ma, _see?_!”

“Oh, would you look at _that_!” the vixen cooed, resting a paw upon her son’s head as she kneeled to get a closer look at the toy he’d decided upon.

A bunny rabbit fitted with a neat little Junior Ranger Scouts uniform sat snug between a plethora of other plush toys in the box placed low on the store shelves.

“So, this is the one, huh big guy?” the vixen asked as she watched the little fox struggle to pull his stuffed toy out of the tightly crammed box. “Oh, be careful Nicky! Here, I’ve got it…” she gently plucked the bunny doll out of its position and placed it in the tiny tot’s waiting paws. “Like it?”

The fox simply nodded vigorously, refusing to take his eyes off the doll. The mother fox couldn’t help but smile as she knelt down to run a paw through the fur between his pointy red ears, and fix his lip so that it covered his snaggle tooth.

It was cute. Too cute. She’d been talking to him about it for a while now, as she was afraid the other scouts might pick on him if they see it. He couldn’t seem to help It, though, and so he remained irrefutably adorable.

She didn’t really mind all that much.

…

“Ma?” Nick started, looking up from his newly obtained treasure for the first time since he held it, “thank you _so much_ ….” He spoke, the vixen leading him by the paw as they walked home together.

She smiled, held his paw a little tighter, and continued walking.

“It’s my pleasure, Nick. Least I can do after seeing your last report card.” She explained with a wink.

Nick smiled now, sucking his snaggle tooth back in.

“And I’m still going to get you that scout uniform, I haven’t forgotten.”

A fire seemed to flicker behind the little fox’s eyes.

“And then I’ll join…” he began.

“And then you’ll join.” His mother confirmed.

“And then I’ll finally fit in?”

“ _And then you’ll fit in.”_ the vixen echoed reassuringly, smiling down at the fox.

The tyke nudged closer to his mother as the two ambled along at a leisurely pace, smushing his face into the pale lavender of her dress in a tight hug.

It was a lovely walk home that day.

…

“Ma, this movie is _silly!_ ”

The fox lay cradling his bunny scout doll, cradled himself by his watchful mother. The vixen had decided that tonight would be the night she’d introduce him to an old film from her childhood: _Attack of the 50 Foot Vixen._

“It _is_ silly, isn’t it?” she whispered into his flickering ear as he watched the celluloid pictures dance across the screen. “Well, that’s what makes it a classic!” she exclaimed in a hushed, excited tone, tickling the kit mercilessly.

“OK! O- Ok! Ok!” the little fox gasped out between breathes, “it _is_ pretty funny!”

“I’m glad you think so…” she cooed to him, nestling her muzzle in between his ears.

.

.

.

“I love you ma” the fox kit said, snuggling up against her closer than he had been before.

This boy.

This boy will fit in; she swears upon her life and all that is holy, this fox will fit in, _dammit._

“And I love you, Nicholas Wilde.”

She whispered the words to him as she curled herself around the boy.

_This fox will save me; he’ll save us all._

_This fox will fit in._

~~~

The group stood quietly in the dark depths of the warehouse, Nick’s old stuffed companion still clutched firmly in his paws.

Jack actually looked sober.

“We can take you to see her, you know.” Judy said. She crossed her arms against her chest, more like a hug than a stance of power.

The fox laughed. He waved his paw languidly, as if to dismiss the rabbit’s proposal.

“Nick, I’m serious. You’ve been cooperative. It’s the least we can- “

“You know, Judy, that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me since I got out of the slammer.” He interrupted, “but I doubt my Ma will appreciate it much.”

“Whys… _that_?” Angela asked, squinting her eyes in suspicion.

They paused; nobody yet decided on whether they wanted to know the answer.

“Dead foxes don’t appreciate much.”

“H-how…” Jack stammered.

Nick whistled through his teeth, claws delicately teasing the seams of the old rabbit doll as he fiddled with it in his paws.

“That’s as good a question as any, Skippy.” Nick replied, giving the buck a sheepish grin, “I guess the poor women could only take three good years of the thought that her only son was a psychopath.”

A pause, a rest, a full stop.

.

.

.

“Did you… get the chance to say goodbye? Did they let you go to the funeral, I mean.” The doe asked.

Nick chuckled wistfully, shaking his head and bringing his paw to his face so as to wipe at his eyes.

He must have gotten something in them.

“No…” he laughed again, not quite able to look out from under his paw just yet, “No, _course not_.”

Jack and Angela looked at one another, pained.

Judy’s words caught in her throat.

“You miss a lot when you go away.”

The fox’s rugged black claws picked the last of the seams out; the doll coming apart in his paws.

He let it drop to the floor, finished with his work.

“And times change.”

.

.

.

It was a quite ride home.

…

Nick stood on the fire escape over-looking a city he thought he had just grown to truly know. It had begun to rain again the hour they returned to Judy’s place, and it was a cold rain; the type which threatened to freeze onto your face as it plinked atop your head and drizzled down your cheeks.

He watched a single car pass him by down below, and – waiting for another to come from where the first one had – lost hope of seeing another soul driving the streets of Savannah Central that night. Instead, darkness stumbled out onto the sidewalks, pouring itself over the walls of the city as shop owners closed for the evenings, flicking their lights off one by one. Some of it – the darkness, that is – encroached on a nearby lamp post, swallowing it once the bulb flickered off, only to be dispelled as it flickered back on.

The fox patted his back pocket and, failing to find what he was looking for, checked the other one. He pulled the pack of cigarettes jack had given to him out; seeing as he was a tad overdue for a smoke break. Pinching a stick between two claws, he yanked it into his grasp and held it tenderly in his paws.

He checked his front pocket.

_Wait._

He checked his _other_ front pocket.

Ah, he never did get ahold of a lighter. Jack had been lighting them for him.

With a swift turn of his paw, Nick slid the window open and climbed back into the apartment. Judy sat on the couch, flipping through the various news channels on that night.

“ _ZPD officers Chaucer and Canterbury wounded in fire fight with the Dirty Paws en route to the St. Becket Cathedral; more news at- “_

_Click_

_“Do your part! Support your city and buy victory bon- “_

_Click_

_“Another battle won at Herptile Hill! Our forces continue to push the green menace back- “_

“ _C- carro…”_ Nick’s voice trailed off, ending in a cough to clear his throat, “ _Judy_ , do you have a match by any chance?”

“No, sorry…” she replied, eyes still glued to the television.

Nick tapped the cigarette against his paws a few times before sliding it back into the box.

…

“I think I’ll turn in for the night,” Judy said, pulling the chain to her lamp until it clicked off, “I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yup… yup. Goodnight.” The fox replied, tossing his blankets out onto the floor.

The rabbit walked gentle-footed down the hallway, leaving the fox to himself. Something caught his eye.

_There,_ there on the kitchen table sat the fail-safe. He could take it right now. He _should_ take it right now.

He sheepishly rubbed his arm, watching the accursed thing sit absolutely still.

If he doesn’t take it _right now_ she’ll pull the trigger when she wakes up and finds him gone.

He didn’t take it.

He sat down and curled himself around the pillow.

_When the tumblers click._

When the tumblers to her door click, and he can be absolutely certain that she’s locked herself in her room; he’ll leave.

He waited for the sound.

That night, it never came.

…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hello!
> 
> This chapter had been sitting in my notebook 75% finished since mid-November, but then midterms came around.
> 
> And then Pokemon sun and moon came out…
> 
> And most everything that could distract me, did distract me.
> 
> There were several scenes in this chapter that actually pained me to write, as in I literally didn’t want to write them. I don’t know what it was, they just bored me I suppose? I would have changed them had the story not already been planned out so rigidly, but it’s done now. I’m sure you could guess which scenes I’m talking about, as they are a tad rushed.
> 
> That being said, there are several scenes in this entry which I absolutely adored writing, and had been waiting to actually put them to paper since the first chapter of the story, so don’t think me to be too down on the product as a whole.
> 
> I do have a few important announcements in regards to this story, so I hope you’d hear me out. First of all, I think there is going to be a bit of a change in form. Each of these chapters have been horribly long, which I thought necessary at first, as there was much to be said, but it’s nearly impossible for me to actually proofread such gargantuan bodies of text when I have so much else to do. Expect updates about half this size from here on out. That also means I’ll be able to update more regularly, so maybe it’s a worthy trade off? You decide! Compounding that, I’d also like to mention that the story will not be set on hiatus or cancelled without an update. I will let you know. I appreciate the PM’s asking me if I’ve discontinued the fic, but it’s becoming hard to answer you all individually! Relax friends, I won’t leave you in the dark for too long.
> 
> Finally, I’d like to take a moment to thank all of you guys. Reading your comments and private messages is always incredibly heart-warming. To see that this story actually caught your attention is astounding to me, as I never thought anyone would want to read my Zootopia fanfiction. It’s unreal, absolutely dreamy in every regard and I love you all for it.
> 
> Ok, welp. I’m off to finish up my finals! See you next year!
> 
> Ah, wait…
> 
> Is it December already?
> 
> Perhaps you should stick around for a little while longer. Something may just be in store.
> 
> (Also, the next chapter to this story might be coming out by the end of the month but don’t hold me to it lmao!)


	4. Bonus Chapter: Scraps He Shouldn't Have

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you keep a secret? It’s a tough task to take sometimes, especially when papers one, two and three litter your desk and they all say exactly what you don’t want them to say.

_I’d like to take a moment – or several if you are a particularly thorough reader – to tell you a story. Or, rather, a series of short ones. These stories are found in the very peculiar apartment of a very particular him. Just a him, and a him is all he’ll remain, for now. I’d tell you that who the him is doesn’t matter in the slightest, but I’m sure an astute elocutionist such as yourself can see that he is a him that matters a good deal to the big picture here. That being said, you’ll have to either wait to find out who him is or find out who the him is yourself._

_So anyways,_

_In the back room of his particular peculiar apartment was a poor wooden desk which sat against the furthest wall in shambles. Judging by the disrepair of the room as a whole, one could safely assume that the somewhat solemn sojourn of the building must have had other activities to busy himself with.  On his chair was his overcoat, “ZPD” emblazoned on its back. Atop the desk sat a stack of papers._

_These are those papers._

_._

_._

_._

_…_

Prison Log: Executions 04/XX

Thester, Greer-                 Electric Chair

Moira, Emmett-                Gas Chamber

Hay, Timothy-                    Electric Chair (Botched)

Qwala, Kerry-                    Electric Chair

Big, Alfredo-                       Lethal Injection

Maxine, Carl-                     Electric Chair

Helmler, Armin-                Gas Chamber

Stallerd, Joseph-               Electric Chair

Gat, Gitty-                           Electric Chair (Botched)

O’Donnel, Wolf-               Firing Squad

Johnson, Isaac-                  Gas Chamber

Browning, Cecil-                Lethal Injection (Botched)

Browning, Conrad-           Lethal Injection

Barker, Daniel-                  Electric Chair

Skyes, Joseph-                   Electric Chair (Botched)

Weseltine, Elliot-              Gas Chamber

Trunks, Frederick-            Electric Chair

Wright, Bobby-                 Lethal Injection

 

…

_The letters in the following series of papers are all a tawny yellow, creased in several places. They seem to have been dug up out of a garbage can._

_._

                                                12/XX

My darling boy,

I heard what they said about you in court today and I want you to know that I don’t believe a god damned word of it. I know you baby, you’re my child, you’re my Nicky.

Most of all, I know it isn’t true. Don’t let them get into your head.

Wait for me honey, I’ll find a way to get you out of there. Your name will be cleared again by next year. I’ll be here for you the entire time, even if I can’t really be there for you. You understand, don’t you? Don’t think I’ll stop thinking about you for as much as a second Nicky. You’ve been my entire world since the day you were born, coughing and crying and bloodied, wriggling into the world. You’ll be my entire world until I leave.

In fact, I’m going to find a new lawyer after I sign this letter.

Loving you with all of her heart,

Mom

.

1/XX

My sweet Nick,

I got your letter this morning and I haven’t been able to focus on my chores since I read it. You didn’t do it Nicky, don’t pretend you even have the mind to. I know times are hard right now and your mind is running in four different directions and you aren’t sure of who you are anymore; that is exactly what your mother is going through right now.

Oh, that must sound so conceited of me, so very self-absorbed. There you are, shouldering the burdens of this planet and I’m writing you to complain about my own worries and woes. I don’t know what’s become of me and my right paw is inches away from scrapping this letter and starting anew.

But _I_ do know you, sweetheart, and I’m telling you that you couldn’t have done any of this.

I raised you Nicky, carried you in my arms as I walked the cramped halls of that apartment we could barely afford. You were the one thing that got me through the day. I kissed you goodnight, every night. I wrapped myself around you those mornings when you’d cry, certain that you had no companion and that nobody loved you. I loved you.

I love you.

I know you.

Write me again soon.

In love with you still,

Mom

.

3/XX

Baby Boy,

Why haven’t you written me back yet? Are you ok in there? Are they hurting you? Nick, please answer your mother. I’ve been sick in bed for the last three weeks and I feel like death. Mrs. Halloway says that I must have caught the stomach bug but I know I’m just sick in the heart.

I need to hear from you again Nicky.

I need to see you.

I’ve lost you once before and I just can’t bear the thought of losing you again.

Love, love, love, love, loving you,

Mommy

.

12/XX

My only sun [sic],

Come back to me.

Love,

Mom

.

3/XX

Nicky,

When I saw the letter addressed from you to me in my mail slot I just about died and went to up to heaven on the spot.

But now you tell me that you deserve this.

You don’t deserve this.

I don’t know who’s been telling you these sick fucking lies but you _don’t fucking believe them Nick._

 _They’re_ _fucking liars._

Please Nicky, god, you need to fight them.

I love you so much.

Thinking of you always,

Mom

.

10/XX

Nicky,

Mrs. Halloway brought me pasta today and I thought of you again. It was your favorite dish as a boy, whole wheat with mushrooms and asparagus. Isn’t it queer how that women remembers such things?

Anyways, I woke up feeling tired yet hopeful. There was something holy about the morning air today. I don’t know just what it was, but something, somebody seemed to be telling me that it was all going to be ok.

That is to say, that you are going to be ok.

I hope this letter finds you in a good state of mind, and if it doesn’t, I hope it brings you to one.

Ever believing,

Mommy

.

11/XX

Nick,

I saw the news today. I saw the revised verdict.

It’s wrong, isn’t it?

You don’t deserve this.

Do you?

Heartbroken,

Mom

.

2/XX

Nicholas Wilde,

Know that I loved you.

Mom

…

Transcript:

>   . . .    . .    . _ .   

-> . _ _ .    . . . .    . .    . _ _ .    . _ _ .    . . . 

>  _ . _ _    .    . . .    . . .    . .    . _ .

-> _ . _ _    _ _ _    . . _    . _    . _ .    .    _    _ _ _    _ . . .    .    . _ .    .    . _    . . .    . . .    . .    _ _ .    _ .    .    _ . .   

> . _ _    . . . .    _ . _ _  

-> _ . _ _    _ _ _    . . _    . _    . _ .    .    . _    . _ . .    . .    . _    _ . . .    . .    . _ . .    . .    _    _ . _ _    . . . .    .    . _ .     .   

> . _ _    . . . .    . _    _    _ . .    _ _ _    _ . _ _    _ _ _    . . _    _ _    .    . _    _ .    . . .    . .    . _ .   

->  . .    . _    _ _    _    . _ .    . _    _ .    . . .    . . _ .    .    . _ .    . _ .    . .    _ .    _ _ .    _ . _ _    _ _ _    . . _    _    _ _ _    _    . . . .    .    . _ .    . _    . .    _ .    . . _ .    _ _ _    . _ .    .    . . .    _    _ _ _    . . _    _    . _ _ .    _ _ _    . . .    _ 

-> _ . .    _ _ _    _ . _ _    _ _ _    . . _    . . _    _ .    _ . .    .    . _ .    . . .    _    . _    _ .    _ . .

> _ . _ _    .    . . .    . . .    . .    . _ .   

…

My Associates

  * ~~Alexei~~
  * Elmer
  * ~~Burtan~~
  * Koslov
  * ~~Beady~~
  * Nick Wilde XXX
  * ~~Angel~~
  * ~~Siscal Fiscal~~
  * ~~Marty~~
  * ~~Morty~~
  * ~~Beatrice~~
  * ~~Carlos~~
  * ~~Christopher~~
  * ~~Sergio~~



…

3/XX

Dearest Jackie,

Janey Made that stew ya used to like so well, the one with the chives and such. It was scrumptious to say the least, and we all fell into those mumbly rants about the good old days we’re so prone to falling into, ya know the ones, the ones when we all sorta just say something and don’t really pay none too much attention to what the other is blabbing on about. I’m rambling, and ink don’t buy cheap. Anyways, the youngins broke one of Ma’s dishes while we were washing up tonight. They were rough-housing, as they do, so, like Ma used to do, I smoothed out the wrinkles in my blouse, straightened my spine and opened my mouth to tell em real polite and real stern like why what they did was wrong.

But I just yelled at them instead.

And I mean I really yelled. I was cursin and damn near spittin throughout the whole thing. Junior cried.

I know ya’ve been quite a busy buck nowadays, roaming the big city as ya do, but I miss ya.

We miss ya.

And ya know Ma and Pa would miss ya too. Things aren’t quite the same on the farm without ya, but I’m sure ya coulda glimpsed that in the dozens of other letters I’ve written ya since ya left. McArthur went and got himself sick last month, so it’s just me and Janey out in the fields and I think the summertime burrow heat may just be getting around to finally boiling my already bumbling bunny brain. I don’t mean ya have to come home and help if ya don’t want to, I just think I’d be a bit more even-tempered ‘round the kits if I had ya to chat with.

Ya always were a good chatter.

How is that big city of yours anyhow? Ya never did write me back and tell me how you’re doing there. I know, I should get my cotton tail on the next train to Zootopia myself and track ya down, but the main district is such a big place, ya understand? And a little country gal like me just wouldn’t be able to find my way around the place, that’s all.

We miss ya sorely here though.

It’s been years, Jack.

I think ya owe it to ~~me~~ us. Ya should come home.

It wasn’t your fault, what ya didn’t do, ya know that, right? Ya need to forgive yourself and come back.

Come home, Jackie.

Waiting,

Claribelle

…

Your order has been placed!

Bouquet of Pink Carnations x 1

Order Placed By: Judith Hopps

Order Sent To: Judith Hopps

Address: XXXX Cap St, Savannah Central

~Savannah Graveside Flowers thanks you for your continued patronage!

…

_This next note is written on paper so old it’s begun to brown. Folded several times, it’s crumpled at the top, almost as though someone snatched it from another in a hurry._

_._

_-_ Jocelyn Eckybara

\- Shay Webber

\- Clarice Lamben

\- Asha Lector

\- Maria Belèmortè

\- Anaya Chival

-Julia Stour

-Monica Gonthers

-Macy Greer

\- Johana Swinton

…

How To Fix A Telegraph

 

1.Water Damage      (Pg. 11-24)

  1. Disrepair (Pg. 25- 104)



Neglect                 (Pg. 25- 54)

Misuse                  (Pg. 54- 104)

  1. Missing Parts (Pg. 105- 213)



Finding                 (Pg. 105-108)

Manufacturer    ( Pg. 109- 133)

Replacing Part   ( Pg. 134 – 213)

  1. Broken Key (Pg. 214- 220)
  2. Useful Numbers (Pg. A- G)



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there’s that. Did you manage to get a glimpse at it? I can’t tell you what it is, but I can tell you that there are several its and if you did see it(s), then you shouldn’t say what it is. Maybe you could just tell me that you saw it.  
> Now don’t go saying you saw it when you really didn’t. That spoils the fun.  
> Ugh, well, enough of that. I hope this wasn’t too painful a read. I was scribbling in my notebook during my breaks in an attempt to further flesh out this story and decided to publish them after some thoughtful editing. I suppose a small update is better than none at all, and it gives me a chance to update you guys on this stories status.  
> For those asking, no, the fic hasn’t been abandoned (if you haven’t gathered that already), nor will it be in the foreseeable future. Sorry to say.  
> The next story-driven chapter is in the works and I’m liking it a lot. Part of me wants to tell you just why that is but I can’t because that would spoil everything! Ah! You might just have to come visit me again if you want to find out what occurs in the following chapters. Anyways, please leave a review letting me know if this little bonus chapter did anything for ya. If it did, there can be more in the future, whenever I wind up in an update drought, though the format would likely be a bit different. Some may read like your typical story. Or maybe you hated it. Let me know all about that too, as then I can save myself some time and just skip it.  
> I’ll let you go now. Thanks again for reading!


	5. Long Eared, Deep Voiced Mephistopheles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot can happen in a night, you know. Depending on where you go – and why you go there – you may bump into a few new faces. A few old ones too. Mmm. We all need a break from the terror of the day to day. Maybe a fox will find his tonight.

…

Well, what would you do?

Nicholas Wilde waited for the tumblers to click. The door was shut, but it certainly wasn’t locked. He would have heard it lock. His ears stood pointy-upwards, trying to catch the faint sound of the doorknob’s mechanisms falling into place.

But he didn’t.

It was beyond him how Judy could forget to lock him out of her room, dangerous predator as he was. If he’d wanted to, he could creep into her room as she was fast asleep and gobble her up. He’s been told that he has an affinity for such things. In fact, who’s to say that he doesn’t?

He itched around the collar clasped tight around his neck. It was shocking him again, very lightly.

At that present point in time, he didn’t really feel like eating her. He really only felt like leaving. In case you had forgotten – or perhaps were just not in the know – he’d received a very enticing invitation to join a rebel group (as one often does) and he sort of felt like going for it.  All he had to do was head back down to the warehouse.

He sat up and looked down the hall again, and, eyeing the silhouette of the bedroom door for just a moment longer, made his decision.

…

The panel van chugged down the dirty back road as well as it could, kicking up dust as it went. Nick _almost_ felt motion sick but, as though through pure apathy alone, didn’t. The wheels just continued to spin and he just continued to sit there.

Then he turned to look out the foggy window.

In the night landscape, most mammals in the van couldn’t see a thing. The headlights poured enough brightness for them to see the ground directly in front of them, but that was to the front of the car and six of the eight mammals currently occupying the van weren’t going to find much use in that. Nick, however could see outside just fine; though if you asked him, he’d tell you there wasn’t much worth seeing.

Not much worth seeing at all.

A cricket chirped and whirred as it sat on a rock, there for just a moment and then gone the next as the van rolled by at its brisk – not too fast, not too slow – pace. The trees which enveloped them on either side may have looked pretty with their deep greens and browns, but the fox only saw their silhouettes, gray and black lines busheled together so densely that one had to wonder if they were going to make it out of the forest at all.

_Pic pic pic **peek**_

Nick flinched a bit, his collar giving him a good zap to remind him that it was still there with him.

He stroked it gently, eyes focused on the passing scenery just outside the window

“You ok man?” a jackal, Marty, asked.

Nick shrugged his shoulders in an attempt to shuffle off some of the tension building in his spine before turning, meeting the jackal, who was his neighbor for this road trip, eye to eye.

“I’m good.”

“Don’t look too good.”

Marty had come along on the journey to pick Nick up, having felt indebted to the fox for letting him go back at the diner a few days earlier. He was a nice enough guy, as Nick had quickly come to find, and having a familiar face, however slightly familiar, was welcome as he sat in the tin can of gang members.

A thick musk sat in the air amidst them, wherever these guys are from, they must not have showers.

Though Nick really couldn’t be fucked to care.

As they exited the forest, the driver, a grizzled grizzly bear who looked to be somewhere in his thirties, took the next turn cautiously, slowing to a crawl before straightening the van out. When Nick looked out his window, it became apparent why.

They’d just come up along the coast now. The wine-colored sea lapped up against the rocky face just beside them, drawing back before climbing up the cliff again, stopping just short of splashing onto the road.

Nick looked forward again, pressing his head firmly against the headrest.

It had suddenly come to him that he wasn’t entirely sure where he was going.

Almost as quickly, it came to him that he knew exactly what he was leaving by going there, though.

The bulbs on his collar lit up. Marty turned to him again, an eyebrow raised. His gaze darted between the fox’s face and the thing wrapped around the fox’s neck.

 

And it was something he’d longed to return to for so long now.

And, despite recent events, it was good.

Nick let his head fall forward into his paws slowly. His ears laid themselves flat across his skull.

The jackal reached a paw out, “Nic- “

The fox’s back heaved as though he was trying to hold a cough in. Despite his best efforts, he failed. Nick sobbed, lowering his head further still until it was in his lap. The other mammals in the car looked at him, the three in the front straining their necks to gawk, the driver saying nothing but using the rear-view mirror for a discrete peek.

And then the electric shocks came. The gang jumped in their seats, more startled than the fox himself. Marty sat up, concerned. Several of the animal’s mouths hung agape at the sight. Everyone wore a horrified expression.

“Nick- “ Marty began again, placing his paw on the fox’s shoulder. Nick sat bolt-upright immediately, turning his head to face the window again. He tried to speak, squeaking out a hiccup before giving up.

“You’re alright, guy, it’s alright,” said Marty, paw on the vulpine’s back again. This time, Nick didn’t bother to move. Marty gave him a few gentle pats.

Nick shocked himself to sleep.

…

A nip at the nose woke him up. At the tip of his snout, plump and drunk, sat a satisfied horsefly. He swatted it away.

Thinking about how ugly the little thing was, the fox rubbed his eyes shut, interested in getting back to sleep. It must have flown in while they were stopped, or something. The window was open, though he couldn’t remember rolling it down himself. Thank goodness you don’t see any of those nasty critters in mainland Zootopia. You really only have to worry about them when in the tri-burrow area.

Like BunnyBurrow.

Nick opened his eyes again and looked around the van. A few mammals were fast asleep. Marty was thumbing through an old, dirty magazine. The driver turned the steering wheel slowly and methodically, careful to follow the path laid out for them.

The windows were down, so they must not be too concerned with being seen.

Nick looked outside.

Rural land for miles. Gone was the familiar infrastructure of the mainland, no yellow lights in sight, only a moon to pour what little light it had out onto the open plains.

And then he looked out his Marty’s window.

There seemed to be mountains to their immediate left, and how he had failed to see them before was beyond him. The path they drove occasionally veered awfully close to the rounded peaks before straying further away, constantly flirting with the idea of running them all right into a mountain’s rocky face.

_Weird mountaintops,_ he thought to himself, _rounded peaks._

_No, peaks weren’t rounded, not typically. These were more like mounds, mounds of earth built up from the ground. And there were a lot of them too. A lot of big ones and not too many small ones._

They rounded a corner, entering the mountainous (moundanous?) area.

_And the mounds had windows. The lights were on in a few of them._

Nick rubbed his eyes again.

_These are burrows._

…

“Where are we?” asked the fox. Marty held his paw as he hopped out the open van door, dizzy and disoriented from the long drive over.

“Welcome to New Meade,” said Marty.

They’d parked outside one of the smaller burrows (though you shouldn’t take that to mean they were by any means _small_ ) and the grizzly bear was now driving the van to the side of the mound and into what looked like an _old_ storm cellar. If ever there was a word to describe this particular burrow as a whole, _old_ would do quite nicely. Its front face was reinforced with a few wooden beams and a tin overhang hung over the door. Speaking of the door, it was made out of the same wood used to reinforce the face – or at least wood that appeared similar enough for it not to matter – and it looked as though it would cave in with a few good kicks.

Not the most impressive hideout entrance.

“It looks like shit,” Nick said.

Marty chuckled, letting the fox’s paw go so that he could stand – and gawk – on his own.

“You look like shit yourself, so you’ll fit right on in with the rest of us.”

That was all the convincing Nick needed to get his feet-paws to walk him to the front door.

The wise-ass jackal knocked thrice on the big, round piece of wood and stopped. A single knock replied. He knocked back twice.

“Stand back Wilde, we don’t want your toes crushed.

_Toes?_ Thought Nick, though he took a step back all the same.

He had expected, as any civilized mammal would, that the circular door would swing open towards them, or maybe even away. He had not expected it to start rolling to the right, sliding easily into the dirt wall. He had doubly not expected the door to be as thick as it was. He’d been out to the Hopp’s family farm a few times in years gone by, and their door pulled open, passing over the little bunny welcome mat that asked you to kindly stomp on its face and kick the dust off your feet-paws. This _thing_ was two feet thick and, make no mistakes, could crush you if you decided to stand in its way when it closed.

But enough about doors.

“Hello!” said a scruffy, elderly rabbit on the other side of the door. He took a second, waiting for Nick to respond. “… Mr. Wilde, right?” he asked.

Nick, who was still thinking about doors, shook his head till the daydream fell away and looked down at the old rabbit.

“Yeah?”

Nobody spoke for a nice awkward second.

“I mean, yeah, hello. Nice to meet you…”

“Dalton,” the buck said, stealing the fox’s paw to shake it roughly, “pleasures all mine.”

Nick tore his paw away from the bunny’s shake early, not quite convinced that anyone should be pleased to meet him at this point in his life.

The rabbit, not skipping a beat, nodded over his shoulder down into the burrow. “Let’s get you inside, shall we?”

Without needing to crouch – which is uncommon for him whenever entering rabbit burrows – Nick stepped through the doorway. It was dimly lit inside, so dimly lit, in fact, that he almost failed to see the raccoon standing on the other side of the entrance. With a nod the mask-faced mammal rolled the door shut again, a click sounding off as it slid into place.

The fox walked down the hall, struggling to keep up with Marty and Dalton. Bulbs hung from the cracked, stony ceiling of the cramped hall. They flickered on and off, making it awfully hard to see more than three steps in front of you.

It smelled dank.

They walked on for a while. Further down and further into the strange burrow. He thought that they’d have come out into some new room eventually, but the path just continued on. It certainly didn’t help none that the ground clearly hadn’t been swept for some time and the dirt and debris from wooden support beams dug into his hind paws. He wouldn’t have spared it a second thought, though, had he not been so awfully tired. Or if they had have made any discernable progress towards a room or an outing or just about anything other than more dimly lit hallway.

“You alright back there, Wilde?” asked Marty.

“I’m good,” Nick panted back. Panted. He didn’t think he was _that_ tired.  Weary, but not out of breath. “Are we almost there?” he asked absentmindedly, thinking that maybe his age was finally catching up to him.

Dalton just laughed. “Getting tired, aren’t ya?” he called back, not sparing a glance at the fox.

“Don’t count on it,” Nick shouted back through a suppressed whimper.

“We’ll be through in a sec, the common grounds are just up ahead, Marty explained.

_Common grounds?_

As time went on it became more and more apparent that “in a sec” was a very subjective term and that they’d probably have him running around the underground till he fell dead to exhaustion. But then they hit another door. Dalton, bunny as he was, moved the massive, circular piece of wood with little effort.

And then there was grass at their feet.

And open air up overhead.

They’d reached a clearing, completely encircled by other burrows so that nobody would notice the area if they weren’t far enough up in the air. Picnic tables sat spread out, a lantern atop each one so that the occupants, mammals ranging from folks who looked like your typical biker-gang member to the more broody, motherly types, could see. Nearby, in a taller patch of grass, hedgehog pups rolled and played together.

The entrance to several other burrows covered the surrounding dirt walls.

“What is this-“

But Dalton interrupted. “Welcome to our first stop tonight, Mr. Wilde! Let’s take a seat and rest for a while, shall we?”

“Open seats down here.”

They turned towards the voice, finding a gray lynx sat at a table just a few feet away. The guy was fairly big for a cat (though not as big as that Delgato guy the fox used to know) and his whiskers had grown to a noteworthy length – noteworthy enough that I feel the need to mention them here – hanging down his face and curling into tight qs.

“Felix, _boy_!” Dalton whooped. “I don’t usually see you out here this late,” There was a fatherly lilt to his voice as he spoke.

“I didn’t get back till late tonight. Thought I’d hang out with the nocturnal crew for a bit before hitting the hay,” he rubbed his arm wearily as he spoke. “Who’s this guy here?”

“Nick Wilde,” the bunny replied.

Felix smiled to the fox, pressing two fingers to his own forehead before nodding, almost as if he was tipping some non-existent hat. As Nick took the seat across from him, however, the cat’s face contorted into a confused look.

“Wait, you mean _the_ Nick Wilde?” He looked at Dalton and then at Nick again.

“I don’t know of any other,” Said the fox.

“ _Guh_ -“ Felix looked away, wide-eyed. He took a second to compose himself and decide upon his next few words. “ _Gah-lee,_  I didn’t know you were-” And as he said this he went to shake the fox’s paw.

“It’s a temporary assignment,” Nick explained through a smile.

“Not anymore it’s not!” cackled Marty.

Nick gave the feline a wink. A tired wink, but a wink all the same.

A loud _kerchunk_ came from inside a nearby burrow. Nick snapped towards the sound, the others ignored it.

“What… was that?” the fox asked.

“That seems to be the question of the night. Huh, fella?” said Dalton. The others laughed.

“It’s the railroad system,” Felix explained through a chuckle. “The cars are old and make a bit of a ruckus every time they swing in.”

“Railroad system?”

“You didn’t think we walked supplies between burrows, did you?” the lynx laughed again.

“I…” the fox trailed off, thinking about the likelihood of them walking supplies between burrows and deciding that is was, decidedly, _unlikely_ , “I don’t know! But isn’t a railed system a little old fashion? I mean, isn’t there a quicker way to do all this?”

“Old fashion is the theme here in New Meade!” explained the lynx, though he meant something further from ‘theme’ and closer to aesthetic.

“We don’t get much electric power out here, Meade being rural as it is and all,” added Dalton.

It suddenly became abundantly clear that the flickering lightbulbs down the entrance hall were ‘flickering lightbulbs’ because they couldn’t afford to be anything else.

“So that’s why the place looks like it was taken back a century or two,” Nick looked around himself as he spoke, nothing but the decrepit nature of the burrows to be seen.

“Try a century and a half,” Said Felix, “The place was like this when we found it,”

“No shit?” said Nick, rubbing his paws together before breathing on them because, as they were outside in the dead of night during the heart of winter, they were a bit cold.

“Yeah, yeah. Guess it was deserted by most of the burrow bunnies after the Pig-Rabbit war settled,” Continued Felix.

“Makes sense, though, don’t it? I don’t know why anyone would want to live in this cluster-fuck of tunnels during any time other than wartime,” added Marty.

“Hey, it’s not all that bad. Just that most burrows are a bit more organized,” Dalton piped up.

“Rabbits would know,” said Marty.

“We would,” said Dalton

.

.

.

“Anyways,” Felix cleared the air, “the only folks who stayed out here after the war were nearly Ascetics, like, to a religious extent. They kept the old technology of their time but never bothered to keep up with the technological advancements of the main city.”

Nick was just about to ask where the old residents went off to, but Marty had begun tugging at his sleeve.

“Sorry Nick, but we need to get going if we’re ever going to give you the full tour of the place.” He stood up from the picnic table, still trying to tug Nick with him. “We ought to get going.”

“Ah?” said Felix, purring as he grinned. “You’ve gotta come check out the mechanic room. That’s where I work.”

“Do I?”

Felix drummed excitedly on the picnic table. “You bet your red ass you do! Say you’ll come visit me sometime!”

“I’ll come visit you sometime,” the fox said with a chuckle.

“ _Swear it._ ”

“Gee, don’t twist my arm any further, you might break it,” Nick said with a laugh before raising two fingers up to his chest. “Scouts honor.”

Felix settled back down, seemingly content with the answer.

 “You boys go on ahead. I’ve got some catching up to do with this one here,” Dalton nodded to the lynx sat across from them, “Never see him around anymore. I’ll let you know if Koslov rings for you.”

Marty nodded. “Thanks, man.”

Nick got up, following after the Jackal as he began to walk away.

“So where to now, then?” asked the fox, walking beside Marty across the field and towards the west-most burrow wall.

“Well, I’m taking you to data entry. It’s probably gonna be your first job here.”

“Doesn’t sound top bad.”

“It’s all done by paw.”

Nick’s ears flattened against his head.

“By _what?”_

“You didn’t think we had computers out here in bumfuck nowhere, did you?”

Nick rubbed his forehead wearily. “On second thought, can I just go back to the city?”

“We’d have to kill you if you tried to leave.”

Both mammals laughed despite the fact that Nick didn’t find the joke particularly funny.

They walked down a strip of doors. Stopping in front of the eighth one, Marty pressed his paws against its wooden face, rolling it into the wall. It slid into place with a click. He entered, nodding over his shoulder, beckoning Nick in.

It was a small, stuffy place. The paper pushers didn’t bother to look up from their work as the two walked in; It was quite a bit of work to look up from. Papers piled head high next to the rabbit workers, one stack, in particular, being taller than the raccoon who diligently took to filing it away, the poor boy needing to stand on his chair to draw from the pile.

“What are you guys writing to take up this much paper?” asked Nick.

“Reports, inventory,” the Jackal paused, thinking, “the usual.”

“Well, I think I would have just given up after sifting through the first stack. There’s no way you can keep track of all this junk without an electronic system.”

Marty laughed.

“What’s so funny?” asked Nick.

“I don’t know if I believe that.”

“What’s not to believe?”

“Koslov always made it seem like you weren’t ever one to give up or give in.”

Nick’s face fell blank, but soon took on the expression of a mammal deep in thought. He furrowed his brow, pursed his lips very slightly.

“Sounds like Koslov’s gone and said a lot of things.”

“N- _Nicky_?”

Nick’s ears shot up at the familiar voice. There was something to its cadence. Something sweet about it. When he heard it, the heavenly scent of doughnuts and Snarlsbucks coffee filled his head.

“Benjamin, keep it down. We’re talking here,” said Marty, not bothering to turn to the owner of the voice.

“ _Nick_?” a chubby cheated repeated, climbing out from behind his desk.

There was no mistaking it now.

Nick turned around, a name in his throat. It stumbled across his tongue and slipped out his lips. “Claw…Clawhaus-“ but before he could finish the last syllable he was wrapped in a hug, the type tight enough to crush bones.

“Nicky- is it really-“ the cheetah choked, nearly smothering the fox in his neck flaps.

“It’s me! It’s me… let go, _please.”_

“Do you two… know each other?” asked Marty, astonished.

The cheetah honored his old, not-so-forgotten friends request, placing him back on the earthy burrow floor.

“Yeah, I-“ the cheetah tried to speak but, too weepy to get the words out, couldn’t.

Marty gasped, reeling back. “Are you-  _are you crying?”_

Nick wasn’t sure if the jackal had been asking the cheetah this question or him; because his own eyes were past glossy at this point.

“Wha-“ Clawhauser choked again, something obviously at the tip of his tongue. “Where’ve you been?” was all he managed to say, a smile taking over his muzzle.

“Oh, you know, _around_ ,” the fox laughed through a sob.

“I mean- “the Cheetah still couldn’t find the words in himself.

“I know what you mean, buddy,” Nick smiled, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “but I think that’s a question I should be asking you.”

“Oh! Oh, right…” Clawhauser chuckled, snapping back to his senses. “I’ve run into a new line of work recently.”

“Claw…”

“But that’s neither here nor there,” said Clawhauser. “Let’s talk about you.”

Marty took a seat in the cheetah’s wooden chair, kicking his feet up onto the messy table and scattering papers in the process. This might take a while.

“I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Well, how about: how are you?” said the cheetah.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, that’s as good a start as any.”

The fox wrinkled his brow and wrinkled his nose. “What?”

“You can say that you aren’t sure what to say, and that’s the first step to saying something, isn’t it?”

Nick’s shoulders drooped.

“So, Nicky, hunny, say something to me,” Clawhauser put on his best smile. “How are you?”

And then the fox broke into a cry again, a harder cry than the one he had in the van just a few hours ago. Animals set aside their paperwork and watched; a few of them jumped back when his body convulsed due to the slight shocks his collar was now giving him.

You see, “how are you?” can be a very tragic question for a mammal who’s gone and lost it all.

Clawhauser took the fox up in his arms again and wept with him. Nick didn’t seem to mind being smothered in the other mammal’s belly fat anymore.

“You’re a lot fluffier than I remember, Nicky,” said the cheetah in a gentle coo, between sniffles, into the fox’s red ear.

“It- it’s my winter coat, that’s all,” the fox rasped, laughing a wet laugh, the kind you laugh when you need to clear your throat.

Part of Marty wanted to interrupt, seeing as they _did_ have some touring to get to, but he didn’t want to be _that_ guy. He let the friends blub a bit more, reclining a little further back in the big chair and curling his toes

Eventually, after much soppy sobbing and a tighter hug than any Nick had had for years (In fact, Clawhauser was the first mammal to offer up such a courtesy since he got out of the slammer if he remembered correctly), Nick tore away from the cheetah, his eyes red and puffy and his face a sticky, wet mess.

“What happened, Claw?”

The cheetah huffed composing himself but also rolling his eyes as if to say ‘where to start?’

“Well,” he rolled his tongue as he began to speak, “for starters, I was let go from the ZPD about a year ago,”

Nick rubbed his eyes in confusion, also in an attempt to dry them, but mostly in confusion. “What?”

“So, you haven’t heard?”

“When would I have ever had the chance to?”

The cheetah nodded, giving a solemn, knowing grin. “My goodness Nicky, you’ve been out of the loop, haven’t you?” he said, not giving his friend the chance to reply, “After the war in the east broke out, the good folks here in Zootopia sorta lost their marbles. The ZPD was expected to shape up quick, so they instated a ‘weed out the weak’ policy. I was like, the first to go.” He laughed when he said this, but if you looked to his eyes in that moment, you’d know that the thought of it must have stung quite a bit.

“Buddy-“

“Now don’t go and worry your precious little fox face over me, sweetie.” Clawhauser hurriedly interjected, “If I’da known the path the ZPD’d be going down after that point, I would have been doing cartwheels all the way back to my apartment that day.”

Marty barked out a laugh before clutching his muzzle shut, embarrassed. Apparently, the idea of the chubby cheetah doing cartwheels was a funny one. The other two ignored him.

“But yeah, that’s the gist of it I suppose.”

Nick smiled at the cheetah, but it slowly slipped into a grimace.

“Judy’s still with them, did you know that?”

Clawhauser sighed.

“Judy’s a tough rabbit. I’m not surprised.”

“But she’s a good rabbit too- a good mammal, you know? Don’t you think so?”

“I…” Clawhauser lost his voice for a moment. “I think so.” He found it again. “I used to think so. Things have changed a lot since you went away.”

Nick looked down.

“It was rough for her, ya know?”

Nick flinched, looked down some more.

“But you had it worse.”

The fox’s chest rose and fell.

“You know, I always knew you didn’t do it.”

Nick said nothing

“Marty? _Marty!?”_ Dalton inspected each of the makeshift cubicles, shouting in the worker’s faces. “Have any of you seen Marty? He was headed this way with Mr. Wilde an hour ago.”

“And he’s still here,” said the Jackal, sitting up and stretching. “What have you got for us?”

The buck seemed relieved. “Koslov rang, he’s ready to see the fox.”

…

The sight of an old friend you haven’t contacted in a few years brings a funny feeling with it. Your stomach may tighten. Your feet may feel like they’ve gone and replaced themselves with cinderblocks and the lump in your throat (though it seems to be there more often than not nowadays) might grow just that much bigger.

And if you’re seeing an old boss for the first time in years, a boss you’ll now be working under again, well, you can double that, triple it even.

Nicholas Wilde’s bones ached as he stepped into the bear’s den (though it was more so just another burrow than anything else). He had only ever met the polar bear in person a pawful of times, but the same musky cologne hung in the air now as it did back then.  Of to the left sat a trio of arctic foxes, vixens, playing a game of cards round a makeshift, wooden table. The center of the room was dark, mind-numbingly so, but the crime lord didn’t mean to intimidate anyone by it. His eyes were sensitive and the cooler atmosphere helped him think better.

More importantly, perhaps, was the fact that it calmed him.

The fox was more than a little shaken when the polar bear turned his head in a languid manner to meet him, his big, round, white eyes glinting pointedly in the surrounding blackness. He blinked once, acknowledging that the vulpine he’d summoned up had arrived but said nothing.

Nick turned back, looking for Marty when-

“ _Wilde._ ”

He swallowed hard.

“It’s good to see you well. Come close to me boy. I need to see your face.”

The fox was stunned. That was not a greeting he’d ever heard the polar bear give, and while Koslov may have been unable to see Nick very well in this light, Nick could see him a little too well. He could see the rows of sharp teeth in his smile.

And his massive paws

 And the massive claws that went with them.  Claws that seemed capable of cleaving a lesser mammal (such as a fox) in two – not so – clean pieces.

But he came a little closer anyways.

When the bear said nothing, he inched closer.

And closer.

_Closer still_.

Koslov let out a sigh, a surprisingly labored one. It nearly sounded as though a heavy burden had been lifted off his back. Part way through the sigh, he closed his maw and exhaled through his nose solemnly.

“You look old.”

Nick almost laughed. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“Older than me,” the bear said as he laughed through a wheezy cough.

The fox stood still, watching the bear examine him closely. The way his furry face curved in towards his muzzle. His sallow eyes, bags pulling them down. He held his breath as the bear’s gaze trailed up and down his gaunt body. Took in his shabby fur, sticking out here-and-there from underneath his (tear stained) blue t-shirt and baggy, brown cargo shorts. He grimaced only when his gaze passed over the collar.

“Very…” the bear took his time with the word, drawing it out, “ _old_.”

“I’ve been around these past few years, sir.”

The bear sighed again, this time very loudly. He shifted in his chair and Nick flinch a little.

“No mammal is meant to go through what you have.”

Nick almost told him that there were a few out there who did, and he wasn’t yet convinced that he wasn’t one of them. He thought better of it.

“Alright, I’ve had my look. There are others who have been waiting to speak with you.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. He almost asked what the bear meant but was quickly interrupted.

“Finnick, come here.”

.

.

.

The fox shook his head, dazed. That name was familiar. Undoubtedly familiar. He scanned the room behind the bear at about stomach level but found no one.

And then he turned around.

A dusty fox, about half his size, had been waiting beside the door. The little fox’s mouth hung open, his head tilted at a curious angle as if to say: “Is it really?”

Neither vulpine said a word to one another.

Until Nick dropped to a knee.

“ _Wha-_ “ his voice trembled. “ _What are you doing man? Get over here.”_

Finnick had to make a conscious effort not to run to the larger fox – that would be unprofessional – and once he reached him, close enough to touch noses if he wanted to, he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. The red fox was kind enough to show him, wrapping his paws around the little one and drawing him into a hug.

_Not professional._

_Fuck it._

They both felt the shock from Nick’s collar, prompting Koslov to wave a paw at Finnick, gesturing something.

The fennec tore away and fumbled through his pockets for a moment before retrieving a boxy object. The device he held in his paw was small and black with a little gray switch on its side. With a wave of it over the shock collar, the accursed device detached itself from the fox and fell to the floor with a very satisfying clink.

Nick looked down at the collar, shocked further still (but not _actually_ shocked) and then at Finnick. The corners of his lips rose into a blissful smile. He massaged his neck tenderly.

“Got a few tinkerers ‘round here. Some of them wore collars themselves back in the day,” said Finnick.

Nick continued massaging his neck, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head in elation.

“One guy worked in the lab that created the things. Had a few neat ideas for removing them and-“

Nick took the smaller fox up in his arms again, holding him even closer than before.

Koslov smiled.

The two foxes had much to say to one another. Almost too much. Their looks, however, said it all.

“You’re exactly what we need, Wilde,” said Koslov, bring their attention back to the center of the room. “Exactly _who_ we need.”

Nick released the fennec to the floor again, turning to his former boss, “I… I don’t think I understand, sir,” he said.

“The world’s in a bad way, boy. You believe this to be correct?”

Nick thought for a moment. He thought about the years spent in a jail cell. He thought about the friends he’d lost during his stay there. He thought about the night, back at his old apartment, where the sheep was found in pieces.

He thought about those two rabbits.

He nodded.

“Then you’re going to help us change it.”

.

.

.

The bear closed his big, white, round eyes and hummed.

“You were one of the smartest mammals I’ve ever had work under me,” he said. “If anyone can change this city for the better, it’s you.”

It was clear that the bear meant to say something further, so Nick stood there in silence, watching him breathe heavily.

“We were coming to free you. Knowing you were on the inside of those prison walls was maddening, you know. It would have been dangerous, but I would have done it. I was willing to lose my best men trying to break you out of that place. I need you, Nicholas.”

Nick’s eyes widened slightly, but he composed himself.

“You’ll help us, won’t you?”

.

.

.

“I can try.”

Koslov’s lips curled into a terrifying bear grin.

“Then, Finnick, show him how we work.”

…

The planning and tactics burrow, three doors left of the main entrance, was small. Nick looked around the room as he, Finnick, Marty and Clawhauser (who had requested an hour off so as to chat further with Nick) entered.

 It was all perfectly well that it was small, as there was never a time when a number of mammals higher than five was allowed inside; and the sole piece of furniture inside the room was a table, or rather, a mound of dirt sculpted up and hardened so that it could serve as a table. Circular in shape, sturdy enough to take the relentless pounding of some of the gang’s more impassioned strategists. Just wide enough to host a map of Zootopia, bunny burrow lying on the outskirts. An orange lamp, much larger than any of the bulbs strewn about the rest of the complex (though that wasn’t saying much) hung directly above the table.

Finnick hopped up onto a seat at the table and placed his paws on the map.

“If we’re gonna be successful, if we’re _really_ gonna turn things around, _we need numbers,”_ said the little fox before waving an open paw over downtown Sahara Square. “So, we’re gonna have to get the word out. That’s going to be your first job.”

Nick arched an eyebrow. Marty cleared his throat and spoke up. “I thought we were gonna have him pushing papers for a while, get him warmed up?”

Finnick looked and Nick and chuckled a deep, mirthful chuckle.

“Why’re we gonna waste his time? I know this guy well enough to recognize that his talents are better used elsewhere.”

“Koslov said-“

The jackal stopped talking upon noticing the fennec fox’s grimace.

Clawhauser swallowed hard.

“Koslov said that I am to be in charge of Nicholas Wilde, so he will do what I tell him to do,” said Finnick.

Nick blinked.

The tension sat in the air, and after a few seconds (though Nick may have imagined this, he really was quite tired) seemed to dissolve with a hiss.

“So, how do we go about it then?” asked the red fox.

“What?” asked Finnick.

“How do we get the word out? Ya know, recruit?”

Finnick looked back down at the map. He tapped on downtown Sahara Square with his index claw again. “One of our methods involves fliering folk’s front doors in the dead of night. The idea is that they’ll wake up the next morning and see the paper. Hopefully get the idea of joining the resistance in their head.”

Nick smiled. “Seems easy enough.”

“You’d think,” spat Marty. “But if you trip up and get caught they’ll execute you for high treason.”

“They’ll execute me?” asked Nick, feigning concern.

“Yeah, they’ll execute you.”

“ _Spare me the thought_.” The fox seemed to think this was a funny thing to say, but his companions didn’t get the joke. He began again, changing the subject, “I can’t imagine that’s the only way you guys happen upon new recruits. This is a big place and it seems to have quite a few mammals running around it.”

“We’ve got a few tactics.” Said Marty.

Clawhauser looked away wearily.

“Ok… like?”

“You’ll hear all about them eventually,” said Finnick, “No sense in overloading ya numb skull with more information tonight. Probably should hit the hay soon.” The little fox checked his wrist watch and hopped from the stool he had been standing on. He turned his head to the door, but Nick stuck out a paw, stopping him.

“Hey buddy, _now_ I’m curious. What other tricks have you guys got up your sleeves?”

“The- they’re a little intense, Nicky,” said Clawauser, “We try to ease the new guys into them. Trust me, it’s best if we just relax for now.”

Nick laughed, “I don’t think s-“

Marty raised his paws defensively.

“Just cool it, Wilde. No need to jump head first into this shit.”

“I said I-“

“We stick up trains,” Finnick interrupted.

Nick turned to him and laughed some more.

Finnick looked up at his friend, stone cold.

Nick’s ears went flat against his head.

“You… what?”

“We take over the high speed trains every chance we get. Spreads the word. Demonstrates just how powerful we are.”

Nick seemed confused.

“Did you think this shit was going to be all rainbows and sunshine?” Finnick asked. The other fox had an expression which seemed to progressively become more stunned. “We do worse than that. Wanna know the worst of it?”

“I-“

Marty fumbled with his words, “Fin, this is a lot to be telling the guy-“

“Best to just give it to him up front. Nick, I know this sounds bad, but you of all mammals have to appreciate the methods. Sometimes you gotta do some fucked up shit to get by. You know that.”

.

.

.

“What’s the worst of it?” asked Nick, so softly that the fox may not have been able to hear him had his ears not been so oversized.

“There’s a bar down in the rainforest district,” began Finnick. “The heads of the city have been suspicious of the place for a while now. Think it’s some kind of Dirty Paws outpost.”

“Is it?” asked Nick.

“No.”

“Then, what’s the matter?”

“The government doesn’t have to know that.”

Nick thought long and hard for a moment and, with a streak of horror splicing through his mind, he came to a realization. “They’ll bomb that place if they think it’s you guys. They’ve been lighting up any area associated with you as of late. It’s all over the news.”

“…Yeah.”

Clawhauser looked away. Marty put his paws in his pockets.

Nick wrung his paws nervously. “You guys need to warn the bar patrons. If they go down there…”

.

.

.

“The thing is, Nick, we really don’t.”

.

.

.

“What do you-“

“Think about it, kid. Our government kills _more_ innocent mammals. That’s enough to get folks up in arms, don’t you think?” said Finnick. “And why’d they do it? Thought they were Dirty Paw. Well, if the Dirty Paws are public enemy number one, standing up to that nasty government, the government killing _my_ family members like they’re just some sort of collateral, I think I’d wanna help the gang out, wouldn’t you?”

Nick slid into a nearby seat, terror on his face.

“Fin...”

“It’s for the good of us all, Nick. There comes a time when you gotta start valuing the lives of the many over the lives of the few. I don’t like it either, much, but you know it’s what has to be done.

.

.

.

They all sat in a cold silence.

Finnick checked his watch.

“It’s time to get to bed. Nick, you’re rooming with me.”

Nobody was prepared to move, least of all Nick.

“I said, go the _fuck_ to sleep!”

One by one, they filed out of the burrow and into the night.

…

 

 

_Jack: He didn’t say a word?_

_Angela: I’m telling you, not a word_

The jackrabbit groaned, giving the cellphone in his paws a disgruntled, frustrated look.

 

_Jack: My partners losing her mind_

_Angela: I’ll bet_

_Jack: She’s been through a lot. If anyone has a reason to be high-strung, it’s her_

_Angela: We’ve all been through a lot_

_Jack: Whatever_

_Angela: Speaking of which, you’re asking a lot of me right now, rabbit._

_Jack: And why’s that_

_Angela: You’re texting me at two in the morning. I have work tomorrow. I’ve already told you I don’t know anything about your fox_

_Jack: I had to ask_

_Angela: And I told you I don’t know, but you insist on telling me about your partner’s problems_

_Angela: Shit’s weird, dude_

_Jack: Well, I needed to talk to somebody_

_Angela: Don’t you have any friends?_

 

The rabbit, despite having been replying to her messages within seconds before, didn’t respond for a good minute.

 

_Angela: What a loser_

 

Neither mammal responded for a while.

Angela: Should you even be telling me all this?

Jack: I don’t know.

Angela: Well, what are you going to do?

Jack: I don’t know.

Angela: Can I give you some advice?

.

.

.

 

_Jack: No._

_Angela: I think you should let him go. You may be dumb, but I know your hearts in the right place. And you and I both know that the fox is supposed to walk free. Tell your boss you lost him. I don’t know. Just don’t track him down. You two are bad for him. Then again, you being the dipshit you are, you’re probably just going to ignore this._

_Jack: Don’t be a nag._

 

The buck threw his phone onto his partner’s kitchen table and ran a paw through the fur on his forehead wearily. With a sigh, he began slowly walking down the bedroom hall. Just inside the furthest room, a female rabbit sat quivering on the edge of her bed. Her eyes were baggy.

She mouthed words without actually making a sound. She ignored the buck as he entered the room, falling back into her memories.

~~~

 

“You know, this is very reckless of you,” said the bunny, stepping out of the truck and onto the gravel path out front of the roadside diner.

“What’s that?” asked the fox, sticking his arm out so that his partner could lace her own into his.

“Dragging me out here at two in the morning. We have work tomorrow,” said the rabbit, though the cheery tone of her voice let off that she was less displeased with the current state of affairs than she suggested.

“Hey, you’re to one who agreed to go.”

“I’m known for being reckless. Sly foxes like you are supposed to be a bit more careful, don’t you think?”

…

“Not the nicest of menu options, gotta say. If you were going to take me out on a date, you could’ve at least picked a more up-scale place, don’t you think?”

“Excuse me-“ said the waitress stood beside them, a haggard antelope who wasn’t at all interest in the cop duo’s playful banter and really just wanted to get the ball rolling here.

Nick ignored the waitress and chuckled, a little tired but happy to be out on the town. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, carrots. This place has the finest cuisine this side of Zootopia. Why, take this _beetle burger_ , for instance. You love beetle burgers.”

Judy rolled her eyes.

“Eat me, Wilde.”

“I would if you’d let me.”

.

.

.

Judy giggled feverishly, lucky enough that her gray fur obscured the blush forming on her cheeks. She gave him those big, round doe eyes she often did, her nose twitchy something awful. Nick turned away and chuckled, awkward but happy.

“Excuse me-“ the waitress interrupted again.

“Oh, what’s that?” asked Judy.

“I’d like to take your order.”

The two looked at each other before turning their attention back to the antelope.

“Um, could we have another minute or two, we weren’t reading the menus too carefully.”

The antelope rolled her eyes before walking away.

Judy watched the waitress leave before turning back to Nick. “So, as I was saying-“

This process repeated several times that evening. The two would on and on about this and that, speaking passionately about subjects they had little interest in. Prattling as though they had enough knowledge to solve the world, because, at least for that night, they almost felt like they could.

 

~~~

And, very slowly, almost insidiously, reality dragged her back again.

Jack placed a paw on the doe’s shoulder.

“ _Don’t touch me_!” Judy half hissed, half screamed.

There was a look of horror on her face as she inched away from him. It seemed to suggest that she was sorry, but she couldn’t bring herself to actually say the words.

Jack let his paw fall gently to the mattress pad, but his eyes remained as caring as they had been a moment ago.

“I woke up to get a drink of water and-“

The buck listened to her patiently.

“and when I looked over at the couch _he was gone, Jack.”_

“We’ll find him.”

“We won’t, we can’t. We have to, but if we do…” she stammered through the sentence, “You know what has to happen.”

Jack gripped the bedsheets, his paws a little shaky.

“Nothing _has_ to happen.”

“It does. Something has to give. You know it does.”

The rabbits sat there for what seemed like a very long time but was really only a minute or two.

“We’ll go looking for him in the morning.”

“Jack, I can’t drive,” Judy whimpered, holding her paws up. They quivered violently.

 “That’s why I’m taking you down to bunny burrow first. I checked the pharmacy out there, they have your meds.”

“I-“ Judy began.

“Can’t work like this,” interrupted the buck, “You’re not in your right frame of mind, Judith.”

The doe sniffled.

“ _Ok.”_

“I’ll stay over for the night. Can I take the couch?”

Judy mumbled something, but whatever it was, it didn’t really matter. The buck was already halfway down the hall by the time she even looked up.

…

 

 

Jack: Hey

Angela: What

Jack: Can I have a drink with you tonight

Angela: No

Jack: I need someone to unwind with

Angela: It’s two in the morning

Angela: Also, what makes you think I want to spend any more time speaking with you?

Jack: You responded quickly. Makes me think you were waiting

Angela: Think what you want, carrot cake

Jack: What do I have to say to change your mind?

.

.

.

Angela: That you’re buying the drinks this time

Jack: There’s a club a little ways away from my partner’s apartment. I sorta frequent the place

Jack: Mistie’s Den

Angela: Ok

Jack: You can get what you want. On me

Angela: Ok

Jack: I just don’t know how I’ll get home to be honest

Jack: If this goes well, I’m not going to be sober enough to walk

Angela: I’ll drive you back

Jack: Thanks

Angela: Don’t mention it

Angela: Like, seriously, don’t

Jack: Ok

Jack: I’ll see you there

 

…

_Klink Klang_

Finnick tossed the shock collar onto his bedside table. He took a deep breath before sighing. Nick rolled the bedroom door closed with a grunt. The locks clicked behind them.

“This is fucked, Finn,” said Nick. He licked his lips nervously and ran a paw through the already messy fur upon his head.

“Calm down, Nick,” said the dusty fox. He looked up at his old friend, face stern. “You need to pull yourself together.”

“This is all too much, man. I- I didn’t think- I mean-“

“Fucking mammals over has always been our hustle,” said Finnick, undoing his watch and setting it on the nightstand next to the collar.

“Killing folks is far and away from peddling pawpsicles!”

Finnick looked down and sighed again. He placed his paws in his pockets, his face was still stony and unapologetic.

“And the bar down in the rainforest? I…” Nick rubbed his temples. A pained look ebbed in his visage.

Finnick didn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at him. Pretended he just couldn’t hear.

“I can’t do it, Finn. I can’t do _this._ ”

That got the little fox’s attention.

“ _Nick,”_ said the fennec. Nick looked away, grimacing. “Nick you _listen to me._ You can and you will.”

The red fox shook his head a little more violently than he had intended.

“ _You can_ _and_ _you will.”_

Nick took a seat on the bed, cradling his head in his paws.

“I can’t lose you, Nick.”

Something seemed to click in the red fox’s head. He looked up, realization upon his face.

“You were about to,” said Nick.

“We were going to bail you out, we told you that,” the fennec replied.

“But you didn’t.”

“But-“

“I was on my way to the chair. Did you know that?”

The smaller fox flinched at the words.

“I was going to die and be done with it. I would have, too, if it hadn’t been for-“

He paused, thinking.

“A rabbit.”

Finnick’s face was the one to twist in anxiety now.

“And I’ve left her,” Nick continued.

“Nick, she’s crazy like the rest of them. You know she thinks you really-“

“You know what, Finn? I’m not so sure I didn’t.”

Finnick’s mouth dropped.

“ _I_ don’t know what happened. Nobody does. The only one who could tell us is dead and gone now. The fox paused, almost as though he was leaving a moment of silence. “And I can’t be sure it’s not my fault.”

Finnick crawled onto the bed, taking a seat beside his best friend.

“My life’s taken a real shitty turn.”

The little fox said nothing.

“Who’s to say…” Nick spat a chuckle, shook his head, smiled, bore his fangs. “Who’s to say I don’t deserve all of it?”

“I know you didn’t.”

Nick snapped his attention towards his small friend, startled. There was something in his voice that hadn’t been there ever before.

_Was he crying?_

“ _I know you fucking didn’t; so stop saying you did.”_ The fennec sobbed, really truly sobbed in that dark, gruff voice of his.

“You don-“

Finnick latched onto the larger fox’s torso with a tight squeeze, and when he felt Nick start to wiggle out of it and start to raise his voice in protest, he tightened the hug.

“Don’t fucking do it, Nicky. Don’t throw your life away.”

Nick was shook. In the absence of any other clear course of action, he wrapped his arms around his old, sobbing friend.

“Just stay for the night, ok?” said the fennec, “You’ll feel better about all this in the morning. I did.”

“Ok.” Said Nick.

They held each other tight for another long while, eventually separating and resting.

Nick slept on the floor beside Finnick’s bed.

…

_Click click click_

The small, dusty fox awoke in a sweat. He looked out the burrow window and saw that it was still night.

Still milky, milky, black night.

And then the horror overtook him. He craned his neck to look beside his bed, finding only a pile of bedsheets tossed aside.

Slowly, with great hesitance, he looked to his night stand.

His watch laid there alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nick will catch a break eventually, promise. Whether or not that break occurs under several layers of dirty remains to be seen.
> 
> So anyways, this was longer than it was supposed to be. Like, by a lot : /
> 
> Sorry about that.
> 
> I know I said that I was going to do shorter chapters with more consistency, but I guess I lied or something. I have an idea for keeping the next one around a manageable size, though, so look forward to that, I guess. Swear I’ll get to a point in my life where I’ll update consistently soon.
> 
> Leave your thoughts on the latest events in the comments/reviews. I may go back and edit for clarity a bit if you all absolutely hate it. If I do, I’ll note it here in the author’s end note.
> 
> Ah, I haven’t much else to say I suppose. It’s only midday and I’m already very tired. Expect something, sometime, or whatever.


	6. Yes, It Must Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like any other animal, the fox’s mind is a labyrinth. I won’t profess to know every secret of it. Likewise, I couldn’t tell you what is to be found in the depths of the stony maze, as this varies from mammal to mammal. Will one meet the minotaur, bred by sins long since passed? Or will they meet something entirely different; something they’d never considered before? I’d certainly like to know. There is one thing I’d like to tell you – and this I do know for a fact – those eating dinner at the time of reading this are advised to stop.

_The glyph ~~~ is used here to denote “flashback” sequences. When you see the ~~~, a flashback has begun, not a simple scene transition (which are denoted by the glyph: …). The flashback ends when you see ~~~ again. Remember these rules so as to avoid confusion. Happy Reading!_

 

…

There was a certain bite to the chilly air tonight, and this fact did not go unappreciated by Nicholas Wilde, who had been running for a good long while now, tripping over just about any and every rock, root or raised clump of dirt one could trip over. In spite of this, he continued to tear through the fields, panting and gasping for whatever breath he could catch as he ran, like a child would if they’d been drowning, head just above the water, nobody to cling to.

The tri-burrow area was unnervingly dark at this time of night.

For the eighteenth (or was it nineteenth, or twentieth? He had either lost count or just hadn’t begun counting in the first place) he tripped hard, this time snagged on some old brush-weed, falling to the ground unceremoniously, rolling several feet, defense collar thrown from his paws in the chaos so that it landed a couple of feet ahead, grass stains now lining his fur. And, most apparent to him now as he lay belly first in the dirt, a gelid air that threatened to freeze his lungs solid ached in him with every breath he took. He continued to lay there, panting. He was tired, and he realized in that moment that maybe he didn’t feel too good. Maybe he hadn’t felt good for a while now. So, retching the entire time, he tried to lift himself with his elbows, and, failing that, vomited up a pool of slimy yellow froth.

Which he now lay in.

Aches. His stomach ebbed with a fierce twang as he groped against the ground with his protracted claws in an effort to stem the pain. If he’d had the will to, he’d roll over onto his back. Laying prone like this pitched him into an anxious fit (though he didn’t quite understand why), and the smell of vomit beneath his tender nose nauseated him. Maybe he could breathe easier on his back…

No good.

Try as he might, he couldn’t turn over. A pain, starting at his core, shot up through his throat again. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say the devil _itself_ was clawing _its_ way out of him. Starting in his stomach, lolloping through his esophagus and clamoring up and out of his pharynx so as to burst forth from him. But all that managed to escape was a hot, sloppy stew, made up of whatever he’d had for breakfast the morning before.

At Judy’s apartment.

_Judy_.

_He could feel himself slipping away._

~~~

Judy slammed the trunk of the police cruiser shut-tight.

She’s taking him home.

_She’s taking him home._

She’s going to come and sit down in the cruiser beside him, her Orpheus beside his Eurydice.

How did that story go again?

Nick took a second to look out the window behind them to see if Judy had finished rummaging through the trunk. She did.

Judy Hopps sat down in the driver’s seat and reached into her bag. Pulled out a pill vial. Downed a few capsules. Nicholas Wilde thought nothing of it. He leaned out to her, his paws already grasping the air between them, trying to pull her to him.

“Carrots, I-“

Nick paused.

There was something strange about this. Part of him expected her to reel away from him in horror. He looked up, anticipating frightened amethyst eyes staring into the emerald of his own. The look on his face was one of pre-emptive shock mixed with abject horror.

But her eyes weren’t at all frightened, though they were very wet. His gaze trailed to her lips, which quivered with a gentle smile. She grasped his outstretched arms and tugged him forward, guiding his head onto her lap, both of them shaking all the while.

_“- I missed you…”_ Nick continued. “ _I missed you so much_.”

And he cried, and when she ran her soft paw past his ears and down his shirt, across his back, he let out a muffled scream of relief against her legs as five years’ worth of pain and longing came flooding back to him and then through him and then out of him.

“I’ve got you, slick,” said Judy, weepy. “You had to have known that I was coming to get you.”

Nick didn’t say anything, but he nodded his head. The front of her jeans had been thoroughly soaked with tears now, but he couldn’t stop crying. Judy didn’t seem to mind. She leaned down and kissed his forehead over and over and over again.

.

.

.

But, that’s not how that happened. Is it? No, it isn’t, it isn’t it isn’t. It didn’t happen that way, and it was never meant to.

And Xeno’s arrow keeps going, and going, and going, but it doesn’t happen to get anywhere.

And it never will.

.

.

.

_Muss es sein?_

~~~

 Nick let out a feeble whine as his vision blurred back into reality. His stomach continued turning horribly.

_Judy._

She’d be coming for him now, wouldn’t she? Where was she now? Judy? What if she was punished because he ran away? What if they’ve fired her? What if they’ve _killed her?_ Would they have killed that partner of hers, too? Jake, or… or John, or Jack? Would they take them ‘round back the prison, chain them to the wall, blindfold them and cock their rifles, _tirer commes des lapins_ , all his fault?

Maybe there _was_ a devil inside of him, some ethereal, multi-eyed beast rotting his insides, strange in shape and shimmering slightly, not quite tangible but threatening to turn corporeal, threatening to burst through his quaking chest and move on to devour the rest of the world, rending them into slivers as he himself had done to the lamb. Or, maybe, and this seemed infinitely more likely, _he_ was the devil. He certainly was red enough, and, if the logo on those store-bought deviled eggs he used to like so much was to be trusted, the wretched horror was a fox himself.

Without much else do be done, he decided to rest there for a while and let the immutable silence lay itself over him.  

And then he saw _it_.

There, feet away, the defense collar sat thin and propped open, just as _it_ had been a moment ago, outside of arm’s reach, but _it_ was there. So, he pushed himself up. Most of himself. Half of himself. He managed to lift his torso off the ground (hiccupping all the while), supported now by his claws deep in the soil, but his legs didn’t cooperate, leaving him in some awkward yoga pose. Steeling his nerves, he pushed up off the ground again, sliding to his knees… stumbling into a crouched position… palms of his paws facing downward so as to keep his balance as he stood up.

He took a deep breath and coughed it shakily back into the world.

With the most severe trepidation he’d felt in his life, he bent over, snatched the _it_ up again, and began walking. He wasn’t entirely sure of where he was going – he’d stumbled off the road a good hour and a half ago – but he was intent on going anyways.

The unlatched collar sat snug in his paw, thin little thing _it_ was. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think _it_ couldn’t do no one any harm. It was absolutely innocuous in every way. Not latched onto anyone’s neck, the bright bulbs that usually flashed whenever his emotions flared stayed off. If you’d told him that _it_ was meant to keep criminals at bay, serve as a punishment for their sins, protect the world around them, he’d laugh you off.

Nick clamped _it_ tight around his neck.

Or at least he tried to. _It_ wouldn’t latch properly and kept pinching him. He grunted as he walked, forcing the two ends of the collar together until they finally did click.

And then – because he hadn’t been paying attention to where he was walking – he fell into a puddle. Or Marsh; Marsh was probably a better word for it. He had fallen into a marsh, apparently. He didn’t know they _had_ marshes ‘round these parts, but he’d found one. It might have been a funny sight to a passerby, some fox falling muzzle first into murky marsh water, but there were no passers-by and Nick, having had his fair share of unfortunate events as of late, didn’t think the situation to be at all humorous.

Getting up, he brushed the gunk off his shirt and shorts, horseflies diving at him every which way as he worked (“shoo! shoo!”). To his credit, it took him a few good seconds before he gave up on getting the foul smelling muck out of his matted fur (the fact that his vomit had dried yellow-brown to the underside of his muzzle now made the process seem all the more pointless) before he instead opted to stumble further into the night.

_Honk Honk_

_What the fuck?_

“Hey! Hey- fella!” called a voice from the driver’s side window of a truck coasting to a stop in front of him, “Ye need ye ah lift?”

The yellow headlights swamped the fox’s vision as he tried to get a good look at the driver. Brightness haloed the mammal so that only his silhouette was discernable. A chubby round face, barely able to see over the truck dashboard, and two long ear stalks. Whoever it was, it looked to be some bunny bumpkin.

“I… um… I’m a little muddy,” said Nick.

“Ah, well, a lil mud didn’ never hurt no one, did it? Hop on in, fella, Ah’m heading inta town,” said the rabbit.

The fox grumbled something to himself, inaudible. He scratched the back of his head.

“Where’s town?” Nick asked.

“Bunnyburrow,” said the buck with a distinct southern drawl.

Nick suppressed a snort. “I’d rather not.”

The truck started up again, swerving out in front of the fox so that the passenger side of the vehicle was only a few feet away from him. The truck door swung open, nearly knocking him on the nose.

“Ah don’ see any right reason why ah should leave ye ‘ere in the middle ah nowhere.”

But Nick just stared, finally given a good view of the rabbit. He was old-ish. Looked to be around the age of Judy’s dad, at least last he’d seen him. His fur, however, was a sweet tawny color, just a few shades away from being the same red Nick himself wore. He eyed the fox expectantly, and those eyes, too, were actually quite catching. Large as dish plates and a pretty purple color. For as much of a hillbilly as the buck seemed to be – and you can be sure that the less than sweet, more-so grating southern drawl alongside the old tartan shirt underneath the torn overalls created quite the hillbilly image – he didn’t look too bad.

Come to think of it, Nick probably looked downright homeless next to him.

The fox gave a labored sigh before speaking. “Don’t you think you’re a little too trusting, rabbit?”

“Boy, ye can’ be _ta_ trustin’ nowadays. This world could do with-a few more mammals willing ta trust one anotha’ righ’ abou’ na’.”

Nick scoffed.

“I’m a convict,” said Nick, parting the fur around his neck to give the truck driver a better look at the collar clasped around his neck.

The buck, to Nick’s surprise, just chuckled. “With the city the way it is nowadays, who isn’t, eh?” he crooned before laughing madly _(“Eh hee hee hee hee!”)._

“I killed a woman,” said the fox, “I sliced her into morsels so tiny and so far removed from what she used to be that even a carrot muncher like you wouldn’t be able to tell she was meat, _pal_. I’m ruthless.”

“Naw, ye didn’,” said the buck with a smile; and boy, did he smile. It was a good, honest, sincere smile that ran from the base of one ear stalk to the other. Nick noticed now that the rabbit was missing one of his front teeth, and, despite being a few decent feet away from the rabbit, the thick scent of bunny brewed beer was on his breath. “And ah don’t think ye believe such bilge either, do ye boy?”

“And how would you know what I believe?” said Nick.

“Ah ruthless killer wouldn’t have clapped that _thing_ back ‘round his neck.” Nick almost choked out an interruption (“Wha-“) but the rabbit continued as though he hadn’t heard the fox, “ ‘E also probably wouldn’ ‘ave fell nose first into ah marsh, though, heck, maybe ah don’t know nothing,” the buck grinned almost drunkenly as he said this. “Haven’t met me one, and ah don’ reckon this is the day ah do,” _(“Eh hee hee hee hee!”)_

“How did-“

“I’ve been watching ye stumble around for a while now. Surprised ye didn’ see me driving alongside ye.“ The rabbit angled his gaze downward, looking at the open seat beside him, occasionally shifting his gaze to the fox as if to ask if he was planning on getting in any time tonight. Nick narrowed his eyes as if to consider the bunny.

He got in the truck.

…

The sun peeked tentatively over the horizon at the fox as he ambled wearily into town, the star apparently undecided as to whether or not dawn was supposed to break just yet. Nick’s feet hurt, horribly, almost as though he had just finished walking ten miles. Of course, he rode here in the truck, so his aches should have subsided by now.

Come to think of it, where was that rabbit? He said he was coming into town, but the dirt pathways winding through the burrows were eerily empty.

He’d have to find him, thank him.

Some other time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you believe me if I told you the original draft of this chapter involved Nick and Judy finding one another in the burrows and reuniting tearfully. She then proceeds to carry the fox off into the sunset (they make out first, sloppily, of course) and together they clear his name. Jack dies of alcohol poisoning and then, as if things couldn’t get any gooder, the higher-ups in the city decide they were being too heavy-handed (-pawed?) and ease up on the population. At this point, everyone gathers around the water-hole for a moving musical number trying in the face of opposition, and everything is peachy keen. And Nick and Judy get married.  
> Test audiences thought the idea worked well enough but agreed that it needed more suffering on Nick’s part, so the idea was scrapped altogether. Go figure.  
> What really ruffles my feathers (it’s a parakeet thing, I wouldn’t expect you to understand) has been the chapter length throughout this series. Updates have been horribly scarce since the fic’s initial publishing, and I think that can be attributed to the fact that I don’t have time to proofread and edit 12k words on the regular. Due to this, this chapter has been split into two so that I could at least give you all a little something. This, of course, means that chapter seven can’t be too long in the making, as its foundation has already been laid out. And hoo boi, it’s a nice one. At least I think it’s nice. Might find another bonus chapter cropping up before it though. Hope you don’t mind.   
> Also, Nick gets an extended shower scene in an upcoming chapter, -clicks tongue- ooh la la. If anything, that tells you he won’t die in the next entry. This is good, yes?  
> Ah, well, leave me your thoughts in the review/comment section. You know I adore reading your sweet, sweet words, the praise and the critiques, the discussion and the frustration over upload schedules, the good, the bad and the ugly. Kudos/favs/follows (whatever is relevant on the site you’re reading this on) are greatly appreciated. In fact, they’re absolutely treasured, but I try to refrain from saying so because it makes me seem sappy and I need to keep up my cool-guy online persona.   
> Until next time, have a fantastic week/month/year (however long it takes me to update).  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> Oh, Easter is next weekend.


	7. Bonus Chapter: Bartok

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know what it’s like to desperately need someone? Desperation eliminates all pickiness. You need somebody, it doesn’t matter who, to sit down with. To chat with. It could be a stranger in the bar you’re in. It could be the mammal that hates your guts. You simply need. This, I think, is a universal experience.

_The glyph ~~~ is used here to denote “flashback” sequences. When you see the ~~~, a flashback has begun, not a simple scene transition (which are denoted by the glyph: …). The flashback ends when you see ~~~ again. Remember these rules so as to avoid confusion. Happy Reading!_

 

 …

Sometimes it’s in your best interest to give a mammal some space in the face of calamity. This is precisely what Jack Savage did the night Nick Wilde fled. As much as he knew it would hurt to leave Judy Hopps alone in her bedroom, crying hysterically, he knew just as well that him being there would only exacerbate the problem.

And, besides, his way of coping with calamity involved crawling head-first into a martini glass, and he himself prefers to avoid company so that not so much of a splash is to be heard as he floats listlessly and alone through the booze. That is simply how he does it; or rather, that is simply how he _did_ it. Tonight, as he pulled open the matte white doors to the bar, there was someone new at his side.

And there was someone new on stage. A beaver picked languidly at his guitar – acoustic – as he sat hunchbacked on the tired wooden stool all performers sat on. He whispered something inaudible into the microphone.

“Jack, I told ya I didn’t want to see ya mug around here no more,” the barmaid – a curvy zebra – said, straightening her back as she stood up from polishing the purple bar counter. “Jack-“

But the buck just closed his eyes and held up a finger for silence, looking strained. “And you’ve been telling me so every day for the past year,” he said as he took his seat, “and I ‘ve never listened to you before. Please, Anna, a martini- shaken, not stirred.”

Anna sighed, a weary, motherly sort of sigh, but reached for the drink mix all the same. “And what can I do ya for, miss?” she added, making eye contact with the blonde, heart-faced vixen who happened to sit beside Jack.

“Just bring out the whiskey, thanks.”

The zebra raised an eyebrow. “That’ll be-“

“It’s going on my tab,” said Jack, “oh! And be a dear; bring out the shot glasses,” he added before placing his chin in folded paws and staring off behind the counter, into space.

Anna made another face, this time one of deep surprise.

“Yer with _Jackie_ , are ya?” she asked the vixen, jaw unhinged.

“He’s with me, actually.”

Jack didn’t seem to have a snide remark prepared, in spite of the fact that he was the one paying for _her_ drinks, and instead continued to stare at nothing in particular.

“What’s yer name, darlin’?”

The vixen looked up, made eye contact with the zebra, and looked down. “Angela.”

Anna nodded slowly before turning around to begin work on Jack’s drink. She’d occasionally peek over her shoulder to gawk at the strange duo.

Neither of them said anything for a while.

“Don’t expect me to thank you for any of this, runt.”

But it wasn’t immediately clear that Jack even heard her. He didn’t turn to face her. She was about to repeat herself when he spoke.

“That would take manners, and I don’t expect you to have any.”

Angela clicked her tongue.

“Then what _did_ you expect from me tonight?”

Anna sent the bottle of whiskey sliding down the bar table and Jack caught it in his paws, followed closely by a set of shot glasses. He looked the vixen in the eyes and there was a sort of tenderness in his own.

“I expect you to drink with me.”

…

“And then what happened?”

Angela poured Jack another shot as he jabbered on.

“Well, the bronco, you know, the one I was telling you about, the guy who was trying to pick up the pretty mare?” Angela nodded, “Well – I guess this part is important – well, he’d been drinking all night and she was rambling on about all her hopes and dreams and whatever, and he just got up, walked like, a step or two, and then projectile vomited all over the girls face!”

He pointed a thumb back at a table as he talked, presumably ground zero, and, for a second, he thought he saw her smile her ephemeral smile.

“So, was there a date scheduled, then?” she asked through the corner of her mouth.

“Well, of course. She told him she actually found it kinda charming.”

“Really?”

“No! Are you kidding!?”

Her smile lasted this time, and she even laughed a little.

…

“So I tell the lady, I tell her, ‘I can get everyone else another round but imma have to cut ya off, miss,” the barmaid explained to the captive fox and the rabbit, leaning on the counter as she spoke, “and she told me, ‘well why the fuck you going to do that?’ so I told her, and I was being honest with her here, completely sincere, no joke, ‘Ma’am, ya can’t even look at me straight,” and get this- her mare friend next to her tells me: ‘Lady, she’s been cross-eyed since the day she was born!’”

Angela and Jack erupted into laughter now, Jack beating against the countertop drunkenly.

“So, needless to say, next round was on me.”

“You wouldn’t have cut her off anyways, Anna, would you have?” Jack asked, wiping a tear from under his eye, “you never cut _me_ off.”

Anna reached across the counter, grabbed his pink little nose – which was progressively getting pinker as the night went on and the drink kept flowing – and jostled his face around.

“That’s just cause I know ye’ll just go somewhere else to drink, and I trust myself to take better care in mopping ya up from the floor when ya pass out,” she paused for a second in consideration, “and ya buy the expensive stuff anyways.”

…

“The flames were as tall as some of the skyscrapers you lot’ve got here in Savannah central, I swear.” A camel, having sat down in the barstool next to Jack a few minutes ago, had just finished his grand tale before asking Anna for another round.

“Jesus Capybara…” said Jack before eagerly swallowing another shot. He hoped that he’d be too drunk to remember the story tomorrow morning.

“I didn’t think the Eastlanders would be so ballsy as to actually set a bomb off in Sahara Square, let alone in a residential area,” said Anna, fetching the trio their drinks.

“Hell, I didn’t think so either. I’m just glad my family and I got out of there alive. You know, you don’t realize how evil those _motherfuckers_ are until they go for you and yours, I’m telling you.”

He took another shot before continuing.

“I’m just glad the governments cracking down on them is all. Can you imagine what might happen if everything was run like it was five years ago before the legislative assembly took over? _Pssha_!”

Angela didn’t face him. In fact, she seemed to be actively ignoring the camel. She sat facing forward, watching her now filled shot glass so intently and so intensely that you’d think she was afraid something was going to leap out of it.

He didn’t notice, instead continuing on.

“I think I saw one of those green bastards, too, don’t’cha know? One of those ‘ _Chameleons_ ’, I think that’s what the government calls them, you know, those _monsters_ that shape shift. They hiss as they speak, like Satan himself. Well, they ain’t fooling me, that’s the truth. I said that’s the truth!”

…

“He’s sitting next to me on the train now, right?”

Angela had taken up talking again now that the camel had gone.

“Right,” said Jack.

“And he’s like… almost cuddling up against me! Can you believe it? The nerve!”

“The nerve!” Jack repeated, almost sycophantically. He took a second to slurp his tongue back into his mouth. The fact that he wasn’t sure just how long it had been out was a bit worrying.

“ _Right?_ But there he is, resting his head on my shoulder, just a day after he rejected me in front of everyone! Guys can’t make up their minds… Anyways, we’re on this train on our way to tundra town, and the seats are horribly cramped – at least by fox standards, I’m sure a runt like you would fit just fine – and…”

…

“I… I don’t suppose I’m at - _hiccup-_ liberty to sa - _hiccup-“_ Jack mumbled, throwing himself forward in an attempt to force out the words _“-say,”_ he swallowed another shot of whiskey, “I mean, I can’t say what goes on amongst Judy, Nick and I. It are -is- confidential.”

Angela, who could still sit up straight on her barstool this late in the night, dragged her claws lightly across the murky amber surface of her own glass. She ignored the zebra barmaid’s occasional glance in their direction. Bar goers slowly began to fumble their ways through the front doors.

“It’s not that I don’t like - _hic_ \- you, though I really don’t, I’m just not at liberty to say.”

The vixen eyed him up and down contemptuously as he sat hunched over on the stool. “’Course you aren’t,” she said.

And more bargoers wandered off past them, presumably to get back into their cars and drive off into the night.

“I’m glad you see it my…” but Jack’s voice trailed off as he spoke, and he looked as if he were about to fall asleep on the spot. He didn’t. Instead, his lips curled to form the last word in his sentence, “ _way_.”

Jack chewed his bottom lip and stared over his companion’s shoulder. His eyes strained to see what they wanted to see, and when they did, they squinted into a scowl. Angela turned around out of curiosity to find a red fox a few tables down, familiar in likeness to another she knew, and a wolf sitting across from him who was notably jumpy in his seat. The fox sat sedentarily in his chair, so still and unbreathing that you may have mistaken him for a dead mammal had the wolf not been talking to him in a hushed voice. Said wolf was much larger than your typical wolf and wore a prison guard’s uniform.

Nevermind the wolf. That fox… could it be?”

“Jack, is that-“

“ _No_ ,” replied the buck, a burning rising in his throat. This could be attributed to the alcohol or the anger welling up inside of him. “ _No, no it’s not Nick_ ,” but he didn’t seem to think it important to tell her just who it was. He continued staring at the two.

Upon second thought, it seemed a bit silly to even entertain the thought that this fox could be Nicholas Wilde. While they did both look incredibly alike, this fox wore a deep blue ZPD issued jacket.

Something Nick hadn’t worn in years.

The fox paid no attention to the staring jackrabbit and vixen, instead listening intently to the wolf across from him. Said wolf had started talking animatedly – though still very quietly – and was now chopping the air with his paws to illustrate points.

“Who _are_ they?” asked Angela, leaning in towards the buck.

“The fox goes by Officers Barrymore and the wolf goes by Albus, “ Jack answered in a quiet voice. “Albus is the guard for the block Nick stayed in during his… _imprisonment._ Barrymore is…”

He grimaced.

“They’re not fond of Nick, and the fact that they’re here now of all times worries me…”

“They couldn’t possibly know already-“

“Barrymore’s the slimiest of slimeballs. He has his ways.”

Officer Albus glanced in their direction fleetingly, and they both looked down at the bar table.

“Judy said that she bumped into Barrymore today when she went to take Nick in for questioning at the warden’s office,” said Jack.

“Barrymore?”

“ _Mhm_.” The jackrabbit drummed his knuckles against the bar as he thought.

“Did he say anything interesting?”

“Not really, he was just being a dickhead. Which is nothing new if you know him well enough.”

As Angela poured herself another shot, she let her eyes drift wearily from the stream of amber liquid to the red fox. “Why are they here of all places?”

“Looking for me,” said Jack in a voice altogether too composed for a rabbit who had been drinking all night, “probably have a few questions to ask.”

Angela tossed her head back, and with that the contents of her glass. “Then let’s get you out of here.”

Jack snapped his gaze towards the vixen, but he didn’t argue. He paid his tab and they walked off together, stumbling into the night like the many drunks before them.

…

“ _I told you not to look at him.”_ The fox quietly barked the words at the wolf across the table, turning to watch Jack Savage’s white tuft of a tail wander off towards the darkness outside the bar. “ _Do you want this done right or not?_ ” he hissed.

The massive wolf leaned back sheepishly in his chair like a dog who’d just been kicked, and for a fleeting moment he thought he saw a pleased smile take over the face of his fox companion.

“Did you hear what they were talking about?” continued the fox, this time in a voice above a whisper, “they mentioned Wilde.”

“But what’s that vixen got to do with Wilde? They siblings or something?” The wolf leaned back in his chair further still.

“No, no! Wilde doesn’t have a sister, he doesn’t have _any_ living family! Didn’t you read the letters I sent you?”

“I did, but-“

The fox called Barrymore slumped in his seat, face in his paws.

“They’re going to slip up somewhere-“

“They will, just you wait, sir-“

“I know they will!”

“They will…”

“ _I said I know_!”

The rest of the bar fell eerily quiet at this. The barmaid glanced over at them before continuing to wipe the top of the countertop down again.

Barrymore rubbed the back of his neck and frowned sheepishly at his companion. “I want him dead, Albus.”

“I understand sir.”

Resting the underside of his muzzle in his paws, Barrymore closed his eyes and took steady breaths. “I don’t quite know what it is, but that fox is up to no good.”

“How do you know?”

Barrymore shot the wolf a piercing look, almost more surprised at the asking of the question than angry.

 “ _I, er-“_ the wolf fumbled with his words, “Not that I disagree with you, I think so too, sir, but you talk about him like you know him personally.”

The usual stern look on the fox’s face fell off for a moment. Albus pretended not to notice him trying to coax it back on again. “I’ve never met him, but I’ve heard enough about him to know that he can’t be allowed back into the public. It doesn’t matter, does it?”

Albus shook his head violently, long, gray face-fur swishing too and fro.

“Good. Then be a lamb and keep your nose out of my business.”-

And he took another swig.

Albus narrowed his eyes as he considered the fox, unsure of whether or not he should push the issue.

“Sir, you came to me for help. I can’t do much if you insist on keeping the tru-“

But he was interrupted by the violent sound of Barrymore’s glass hitting the table. Without another word, the fox got up and left through the front door, leaving Albus to pay the tab.

…

“Don’t get too comfortable, you ain’t stayin’ long.”

Jack didn’t seem to be listening, or he just didn’t care. He took a seat on the tin stool nearest the entrance to the workshop and laid his head upon the workbench beside it. For a mechanics shop, the place sure had a homey way about it. When he first stepped foot into the main room earlier that day, with bits and bobbles of various machinery lain higgeldy-piggeldy around the room, he took the vixen to be a bit of a slob. Now, tonight, and while this may be the alcohol speaking for him, he truly believed that there was a loving paw that set said bits and bobbles around the place.

In the far back-right corner of the room, a mess of misshapen screws, bolts, and nuts sat accruing on a table. A thick layer of dust had then accrued on that accruement, and several layers of spider webs accrued on that. But they were the only things on the table, and they seemed to have gone untouched for a long while. Along the walls hung picture frames – some lopsided - of happy mammals posing with a thin, blonde fox, but not the same one who ran the shop now. This fox was unquestionably male, and the tips of his ears were graying with old age.

Atop the workbench on which Jack laid his head sat a large combination wrench with the initials “J.S” etched into its side.

“You run this place alone?”

Angela simply nodded.

Jack sat up.

“How long?”

“How long have I been in charge?” the vixen asked, and when he nodded she rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t see why that’s any of your business.”

Jack continued looking around the room. The engine suspended from the ceiling towards the center of the room swayed hypnotically back and forth.

“Who’s Joe?” he asked.

The vixen’s breath hitched for a moment.

“Joe?”

“The sign outside this place says, ‘Joe’s Shack’, but you aren’t Joe.”

“You ask a lot of questions, you know that, twerp?” Angela replied, grinning toothily. There was something noncommittal about her smile, and she couldn’t seem to hold it.

“I know,” he said, but his expression was eerily grim. Something about the look on his face told the vixen he wasn’t in a playful mood. “So, what? You bought the place after the old owner moved out, then?” He looked up at the ceiling, watching the mold grow in the rafters.

“I didn’t,” said Angela.

Jack set his paws in his lap and looked at her expectantly.

“ _Didn’t?”_

“No.”

“Then-“

“I inherited it.”

Jack’s bottom lip curled into a frown. His deep blue eyes met the vixen’s gray ones for just a moment. Angela pulled away from the sympathetic look as quickly as possible.

“I _thought_ your last name sounded familiar,” said Jack.

“ _I-“_ the vixen startled, her breath catching in her throat. She bit her tongue, watching the rabbit closely as though she expected him to overtake her next sentence. “What- what is _that_ supposed to mean?”

Jack continued to look at her in sympathy, his eyes very watery. This time, she held his stare.

“Your dad used to own this place, didn’t he?”

Angela didn’t look away.

“He did,” she said.

Jack finally broke the gaze, looking down as if he was ashamed.

 “I’m sorry, Angela.”

Seeing the buck turn away from her, Angela picked up her sarcastic tone again. “Thanks, but which part are you apologizing for, the ruining of my day or-“

“We can talk about it if you’d like.”

Angela’s voice simpered out again. He looked up at her. She turned away.

“What’s there… what’s there to talk about?”

Jack sat up and, for a drunk hare, looked rather composed for once.

“The two rabbit officers who came here all those years ago-“

“ _You-“_

But Jack didn’t let the vixen interrupt.

“And everything that followed.”

~~~

It was a heat-stroke sort of day in savannah central and times were changing in Zootopia. In the face of war, most turned towards the provisional governmental body for guidance. Others, and they seem to have become so much more vocal after the mystifying disappearance of the former mayor, had their scruples.

Joseph Skyes was one such mammal.

And he held no qualms with voicing these opinions. He was a regular guest on morning radio shows in which he’d discuss with the hosts the current state of their beloved city. He was not known to turn down the opportunity to discuss such things at public events, either.

But, after a while, strange things began happening. The radio shows who once had been eager to invite him on wouldn’t so much as return his emails. Stranger still was the fact that the organizers of those public events had seemingly vanished.

So, when his teenage daughter darted into the mechanic’s shop in which he sat fidgeting with an old motor a customer brought in to frantically spill that there were two policemen at their door, he wasn’t particularly surprised. Instead, he smiled.

“What’s that you got there, Angie?”

Angela looked confused for a moment, but seeing that he was staring at her paw, opened it.

Inside was a screw, its head broken off.

“It’s another one for the collection, but that’s not the point dad-“

“Put it with the rest, kiddo. I’ll go get the door.”

Angela swallowed, unsure of what to say.

“Dad…”

The fox walked calm and composed towards the door and opened it. The policemen, both snow white Jackrabbits of diminutive size, black stripes lining their cheeks, grinned keenly at him.

“Good day officers. Please do come on in, I’m very busy today.” Mr. Skyes ushered them in. “Can I get you anything? It’s been a scorcher today and I’ve got lemonade in the back.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said the first officer.

“Oh?” said the fox.

“No, it won’t be,” said the second officer.

“Well, may I ask your names then?”

“Bartok,” said the first, and the second didn’t answer, instead smiling a wicked smile.

~~~

Not another word was spoken after Jack finished his story; none could be. There seemed to be an enchantment hovering in the air twixt he and Angela. Save for the streams of tears running down Angela’s cheek fur, her face remained unchanged, unwilling to pry her gaze away from Jack’s.

It was a while before Jack spoke again.

“They beat him half to death.”

And still, she didn’t respond.

“In front of you, correct?”

Though he phrased the words as a question, it was more of a statement.

“Nobody, not even Bartok, thought your father would be executed five years later.”

Angela sat stoically on her stool, paws firm in her lap. She blinked a drippy tear from her eyes and let it run down her snout.

“When you came in today, you and Officer Hopps, I thought they’d sent you after me too. But then I saw that fox with you. He wanted to help you…”

She swallowed before closing her eyes shut tight.

“Did you- _did you know them? Were they yours?”_

Jack didn’t have to ask what she meant. The two officers had been jackrabbits, white with zebra stripes running down their cheeks and backs. He smiled a tiny, little smile. Sweat dripped from his forehead and into his eyes, though this could be attributed more to the booze than to anything else.

“They weren’t _my_ family, no. I did have to do a case study on them before coming out to Zootopia, though,” he wiped his brow before continuing. “They were among the first rabbits to join the force after Judy Hopps; if you can believe it. Your father was their first arrest.”

Angela nodded slowly, dreamily, still not breaking eye contact. He could tell that she was searching his face for something, some lie.

“They did look a good deal like me, though, didn’t they?”

The vixen didn’t respond.

Jack closed his eyes and nodded so gently that it looked as though he was about to fall asleep on the spot.

“Yeah, yeah…” he stood up off the stool, a little shaky on his feet, “guess it all makes sense now. Well, I don’t feel drunk enough for this. I’m heading home. Call me sometime if you’d like to really get smashed-“

"You shouldn’t know these things, rabbit.” As Angela spoke, there was a quiet anger burning behind her eyes.

Jack stopped for a moment.

“You know, this doesn’t mean you have to stop hating me.”

Angela’s gaze bore into him. He kept his gaze towards the concrete floor of the workshop.

“I have plenty of sins of my own I’ve still got to atone for.”

And with that, he began to walk away. Angela watched him go, and something inside of her urged her to call out to him, but she couldn’t find her voice in time.

“ _Jack-_ “

But the door had just swung shut.

“- _what did you do?”_

…

Jack started the ignition the moment Judy climbed into the passenger seat of the truck.

“You smell weird,” Judy said, her voice still shaky.

“And you look awful,” replied Jack as they drove out the gates of the apartment complex.

“I didn’t sleep.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

There was a pause. Jack looked both ways at a stop sign before continuing onto the freeway.

_Bunny Burrow 211 miles!_

“Where did you go?” asked Judy.

“What?”

“Last night.”

“I was out drinking.”

Judy placed her paws on her lap and watched them shake. “With who?”

“Alone.”

They sat still for a while, watching the city landscape go by faster and faster as they picked up speed.

“I think it’s good that you’re out there finding friend’s to- _Jack!”_

The buck had turned to her with a look of confusion and, not watching the road, nearly careened into the car next to them.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

Judy turned to look out the window.

_It’s ok, Jack. It took a fox to get me used to life in the city, too._

They were silent until they crossed the district line into the tri-burrows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished this when I should have been studying for next week’s history midterm. 
> 
> Hope you can dig it. 
> 
> Until next time,  
> Keep cool, cats.


	8. Through the Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You see an old friend, one you haven’t met with in ages, walking down the street. You hide. Why?

_The glyph ~~~ is used here to denote “flashback” sequences. When you see the ~~~, a flashback has begun, not a simple scene transition (which are denoted by the glyph: …). The flashback ends when you see ~~~ again. Remember these rules so as to avoid confusion. Happy Reading!_

...

Bunnyburrow was a queer place. That is to say, the Bunnyburrow presently known was a queer place; not the delightful (-ly uninteresting) Bunnyburrow you yourself may have heard of or perhaps visited ages ago. The Bunnyburrow at which we lay our story was perfectly abnormal by mammal standards. In every home or shop sat or hung a clock that was _precisely_ four minutes too fast, and you could be certain that both a visiting bunny, as well as the host of the house or shop they were in, would say “Hello,” or “Goodbye,” when coming or going. It was, put simply, good manners.

In the prison back near mainland Zootopia, you were to show up for meals immediately as the clocks struck five, twelve and four. In Bunnyburrow, mammals came and went to breakfast, lunch, and dinner freely because the clocks were all screwy anyways. In the prison, you were expected to greet the officers walking the halls, running their blackjacks cross the bars, and when they left you were meant to wish them a nice day even if you didn’t actually mean it. In Bunnyburrow, the politeness of the exchange was really all that mattered. Bunnyburrow was strange.

And the strangeness of it was not hurt, nor was it helped (in fact, the town continued bustling along obliviously,) by a Lt. Judith Laverne Hopps, sprinting down the main town road, tears in her eyes, paws clutching at her ZPD-issued jacket in a struggle to tear it off, icy breath every bit as clear and consistent and rhythmic as the beating of the heart of the older rabbit who sat in his rocking chair down by the town grocer; the one with coronary artery disease.

Judy, who had no disease worth mentioning (though it could be argued that she was sick in the heart in her own way,) scrambled through the front door of St. Carrots Burrow, the “Local Home for Elderly and Diseased Rabbits”. She ignored the receptionist (“Hello Ma’am, have you come to see somebody today?”), brushed past the family of four, who _were_ seeing someone today (“Do you reckon she’s late for a very important date?”), and nearly knocked over a kindly, wheelchair bound doe in her rush for the restroom (“Why, hello to you too, missy!”)

Her paws fumbled against the gelid doorknob several times before she managed to lock it behind her. Judy blinked two hard blinks, trying to wake up from the benumbing nightmare if that was at all possible, and, failing that, turned around. A high screen-window, presumably meant to help ventilate the admittedly noisome bathroom, poured into a small space of the restroom teeming sunlight. She walked on overwrought legs towards the beam, squinting once it hit her face. She looked back at the bathroom door again and slammed her back against the wall, sliding down to a crouching position just below the window. She gave two hard tugs at her ears in furious frustration.

And then she cried.

Curiously, she didn’t rightly know why she was crying. She couldn’t quite articulate why she had this sharp, needling pain gnawing her heart into something like asystole, but she did.  Nothing was coming together in any logical manner. They’d come a long way from Zootopia, her and Jack, to get her medication, and when they finally reached the pharmacy, she panicked. She scrambled out of the line and out of the building. She felt as though she was going to die. This did nothing but make the bewildering and unexplainable hate for herself build inside of her, calcifying her innards but leaving the outside unmolested.

Dutiful Officer Hopps.

Judy banged her head repeatedly against the bathroom wall until she was too dizzy to see straight. And then, when her vision did come back to her, she banged her head against it again.

…

Shadow and warmth conspired around Nick as he sat in a sun spot and watched the bushy brush – growing on the side of the convenience store in front of him – shiver in the cooler wind. He was huddled on the other side of the dumpster of some Old Folk’s home, the side hidden from the common passerby. Unsurprisingly, it smelled something awful, and the opening in the wall under which he sat – a screen window into the building’s restroom – did nothing but exacerbate the problem, naturally. It wasn’t the ideal place to wait around, and he’d have to wait for night to come again, surely, before trying to leave town. The rabbits couldn’t possibly take well to a convict walking around in broad daylight.

They didn’t deserve that.

There was something about this Bunnyburrow he hadn’t noticed before. Something amiable. He peeked out from behind the dumpster, just for a moment, and saw the fluffles of rabbits moving together like a bubbly warm sea of gray and white, their ears bobbing up and down as they hurriedly went about their day to day routines. It reminded him of his Zootopia. Small town, large city, they’re both more alike than he’d realized before. He couldn’t help but wonder if his old city was doomed to decay like it has now.

His heart beat soft and warm.

He’d start on his way back to the main district at night, then. Perhaps they’d already started looking for him, and they would meet him half way. That would be extraordinarily nice. He’d spent too long walking already, and his bones felt tired and old; a ride back to the penitentiary would be perfect.

Nick tightened his paws into fists and pummeled the ground over and over again, kicking up a dust cloud in his fit. He sneezed and didn’t bother to wipe his nose. His collar shocked him over and over in good turn. He felt like screaming but he knew he couldn’t.

He banged his head against the wooden building behind him.

...

Furies, one of wrath; one of sorrow; and one of turmoil, hissed in the air as they flew ineffable patterns, too horrible for the mammalian mind to understand, around Judy’s head, flowing in through her ears and out through her devilishly cool breath. Her tears were unexpectedly hot, and her choking sobs were unexpectedly pathetic. She shook her head and told herself she was over-reacting. She sobbed a bit harder, a bit more defeated, and ran her paws down her chest, gripping at her jacket.

There was a weird longing in her heart.

Her feelings crescendoed – longing, loathing, fear, and love boiling over in her guts – before painfully reaching a tragic diminuendo, silence and hopelessness taking the place of all other emotions. She wondered if it was her fault, just for a moment, but then remembered that it was _his_ fault, his and his alone, and that her suffering now was his fault as well.

And then her feelings crescendoed again, then diminuendoed, and she wondered if it was her fault, just for a moment.

…

There was nothing to be done as he groveled in the dirt by the other trash, nothing other than wait. Nick thought he saw a mayfly buzzing about in front of him; though his vision was blackening and he couldn’t be sure of anything anymore. He bit hard into his gums. They bled profusely, and he let it dribble out of his muzzle. His mouth stung. His eyes stung. The stark-white winter sun burned down upon him and he finally felt sure that he was dying.

A devil sat cool-handedly on his lap, causing his empty guts to twist violently and guiltily.

When he was first to be executed, days ago, captive and alone, he didn’t truly believe it. Everything seemed exceptionally non-real to him at the time. What he had been living had not been life – at least not in any capacity he’d known it as before – and the approaching coda to it all looked to him to be no louder than a whisper. The horror was to be found in the simplicity of it all. Now, today, he felt the thrumming of the drums and flourishing sound of the trumpet fanfare as he sat, very nearly alive but not quite.

_Maybe,_

No, there was no maybe, and the concept wasn’t ambiguous. There was a reason he felt he had a life to lose now and didn’t then. He’d found them all again. He found Finnick, Clawhauser and Koslov. He remembered them and he remembered what they’d all meant to him in a past life. He found Judy, or, rather, she found him.

Zootopia, the city he had learned to love through her, was maimed. Now he will die, and the city will watch, forgetting that he had loved it, and he won’t be there to make it a better place anymore.

He wanted to stand.

Bracing himself, he pressed a paw against the building behind him and soon found that he couldn’t get up.

…

Judy drew another labored breath, trying to calm herself down and failing. A horrible, unreal figure sat on her back and her chest felt ready to collapse in on itself. The room around her yawned and ebbed with cloudy wickedness. The failsafe device, the trigger that could overload Nick’s collar and end his life, sat heavy in her palms. She ran two nervous thumbs down its sides. Everything felt wrong. The very same sort of wrong she promised to fight against. She went to stand. She’ll fight against this wrong too after it stops feeling so constrictive.

She pressed her paw against the cold bathroom wall for balance, only to fall to her knees again.

…

Jack walked languidly down the bustling town path, a white paper bag pinched between his thumb and index finger. He scanned the crowd and, not finding the bunny he was looking for, frowned.

Wooden buildings lined the sides of the main road. The old burrow structure used for housing and older town shops had been foregone due to lack of funding, so instead of the rolling hills one would be acquainted with, lines of homebrew businesses boxed rabbits in as they walked along. It was something unlike Bunnyburrow and unlike mainland Zootopia. 

Mayflies buzzed about him. A curious sight to see in the middle of winter. He brushed one off his suit sleeve.

“Hey buddy,” he called out to a well-built buck, a carpenter, who stood smoking his pipe outside a drugstore, “You wouldn’t have happened to see a doe run down this street a couple minutes ago, would you have?”

The buck looked to his right, only to find nearly twelve does going about their townly business, and then to his left, finding another four. He shook his head. Jack rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, funny. Look, she’s a light gray with big purple eyes and about yay high-“ He held a paw up to his own head level, “Well, about as tall as me, and she’s wearing a blue ZPD Jacket.”

The buck raised an eyebrow.

“You mean Judy Hopps?”

“I do, actually.”

“Well, why’d you go and make things so damn complicated?” the buck shouted, spraying warm spit and causing Jack to lean back slightly. “There isn’t a bunny in these burrows who doesn’t know Judy Hopps!” The rabbit had the kind of doltish voice that made Jack kind of want to punch him in the mouth. “I know her personally, of course. Our parents were close friends so we hung out a lot. All over me, that one was. She had a thing for big, strong bucks, let me tell you. Why are you after her anyways? You got some sort of thing for her? Believe me, buddy, she’d chew you up and spit you out. What she needs is a real rabbit...” he had begun stroking his muscles now, seemingly unaware of what he was doing, “-big and strong and-“

“I’m her partner. I just need to know-“

But the buck was staring at him now. The rabbit’s eyes scanned the Jackrabbit up and down, almost as though he was sizing him up.

“You’re her partner?” asked the carpenter bunny.

Jack crossed his arms. “Yes _.”_

The Buck shook his head before exhaling haughtily. He mumbled something about the jackrabbit being a “bit of a step-down”, more so to himself than to Jack.

“Excuse me _?”_

“I said you’re a bit of a step-down,” the buck repeated without an apologetic glint in his eye, “her previous partner being Wilde and all.” He shrugged. Jack raised an eyebrow.

“What do you know about Nicholas Wilde _?”_

“Judy would bring him home every once and a while- hey, if you’re her partner, what are you doing standing here talking to me? She was running down the street in tears a few moments ago! Why aren’t you with her? _”_

“I don’t know where she is _!”_ Jack shouted.

“She’s in the nursing home, ya idiot!” the buck shouted back much louder, leaning forward so that he was inches away from the smaller rabbit’s face. Jack clenched his two front teeth and tightened his grip on the white paper bag in his paws. He threw up his free paw in farewell as he walked away from the other bunny.

…

He was still quite mad when the nursing home came into sight and had to double check to make sure the sign actually read _nursing home: St. Carrots Burrow._ He was just about to walk up to the front door when something caught his eye.

A little ways down the side of the building there was a dumpster. Typically, this wouldn’t garner his attention. It was, instead, the unmoving russet-furred foot that stuck out from behind the dumpster that drew him in.

It should have been absolutely innocuous. There were plenty of foxes living in bunny burrow. It isn’t far-fetched to say that one of them may be homeless and decided to take up residence behind this particular dumpster, down this particular alley, beside this _particular_ nursing home, the same one Judy was supposed to be in. But something drew him towards that dumpster anyways. His white, fluffy feet felt unbearably heavy and with each step he took, gravity weighed on him. It weighed greater upon him still as he neared the dumpster, and greater and greater still.

Until he passed it and turned, now face to face with the fox sitting on the other side of it.

Nick’s eyes opened slowly. They widened for a moment, just a moment, but he didn’t blink. Jack was too stunned to move. The paper bag hung daintily from his paws.

The Fox was covered in grime and muck and all sorts of filth. Grass stains lined his fur. Dried vomit ran up the underside of his muzzle and down his dark blue t-shirt. Now, two streams of tears began to run from his eyes, still locked with Jack’s, and he pursed his lips.

Jack watched him without any visible emotion.

Nick’s body retched forward in the throes of a sob, but he refused to look away from the rabbit. He shuddered but would not stand up to run. He whimpered softly but would not open his mouth to speak.

Jack said nothing, but he walked towards the Fox. He didn’t hit him, nor did he cuff him. He simply sat down next to him, resting the white paper bag upon his own lap. He turned to Nick – which was a very difficult thing to do with the mammal’s current state and scent – and he mustered up a smile.

“Come on now, you’re too pretty a face to cry like that,” he said, and Nick looked positively bewildered. “Come, come,” he continued with a sigh, tugging a white handkerchief out of his suit’s front pocket and gently pulling the fox’s head towards him. He wiped the first layer of filth off of Nick’s muzzle – forceful enough to get some of the grime off but not hard enough to hurt. “ _Now, blow_.”

Nick found the strength – and the sarcasm – within himself to roll his eyes, but he did as the rabbit instructed and blew his nose.

“That’s a bit better,” Jack said, looking down at the then-white now-yellow handkerchief. He grimaced and shook his head, setting the rag down on the dusty alley road.

“You still got those cigarettes I gave you?”

Nick started, then stopped. He thought for another moment, and when he remembered which pocket they were in, he dug the pack out.

“I thought you said you didn’t smoke,” said Nick.

“I just try to avoid nasty habits, that’s all. One can’t kill me.” Jack smiled and took a cigarette from the box before flicking his lighter on. “Need a light?”

Nick nodded, sticking the stick in his muzzle. Jack leaned towards the Fox in an attempt to light the cigarette in his mouth. Nick snatched the lighter out of his paws and squinted disapprovingly at the buck. After lighting his own cigarette, he handed the lighter back to Jack, puffing gently.

And then he noticed that something in the air smelled unusually nice. He scented the breeze.

“You…” Nick sniffed again, “ _You smell nice.”_

Jack took his own cigarette out of his mouth and raised a curious brow.  “ _What did you just say?”_

“Almost like a vixen…” Nick continued.

“ _What?”_

“Do I know her?”

“What are you talking about-“

Nick sniffed the air again, then smiled gently.

“ _I do.”_

Jack tried his damnedest to act confused and looked away.

And then he smiled.

For the first time in a long time, Nick laughed a genuine, pure laugh. Not a laugh clouded by sadness, nor a laugh stooped in sarcasm. He laughed a laugh that mammals can only laugh when confronted with something sweet and tender.

Like love.

And soon, though unwilling at first, Jack joined in. So they laughed and laughed for what felt like hours until they felt comfortably warm, and when the laughter died down they sat in a blissful haze, watching the mayflies bumble in and out of the bushes in front of them.

…

Laughter. There was laughter coming from the window right above her head. Judy wouldn’t have thought anything of this, but the voices sounded too familiar to ignore. She scanned the restroom and, finding a step stool for mammals too short to reach the sinks, climbed up to take a look out the window.

….

Nick watched the mayflies skirt across the sky, forgetting himself for a moment. He rested his head against the hard brick wall behind him. Jack closed his eyes and did the same.

“Jack?” Nick asked.

“Mmm?”

“Where’s Judy?”

Jack leaned forward and opened his eyes to look into the fox’s. There was a thick layer of crust built up around the sterling emeralds. Part of him regretted tossing his handkerchief onto the floor. He smiled.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing, actually,” he said, and in doing so held up his bag. “I’ve got something for her.”

Nick narrowed his eyes, very slightly. “What’s that?” he asked.

Jack rustled the bag.

“It’s from the pharmacy down the road. Prescription Colmidon. Supposed to help with her anxiety.”

Nick turned away. He looked towards the mayflies again. His collar shocked him lightly.

“Do you reckon it does?”

A scene came to Jack, not opaque like so many of his memories nowadays, but crystal clear. Judy’s medication had run out and she’d locked herself in her bathroom, screaming and banging on the walls. Then another. She had snapped the pencil she was using to write up the most recent case report into two halves. He told her he’d finish it.

“It makes her calmer. A bit easier to work with, that’s for sure.”

A mayfly had alighted on a mulberry bush just a few feet away.

“So that’s why you guys are out here today?’ asked Nick.

“Yes.”

Nick smiled, his eyes still on the mayfly.

“So, you weren’t looking for me?”

“Well, not at this very moment, no. I wouldn’t have thought to come all the way out to the burrows if I were looking for you.”

Tears formed at the corners of Nick’s eyes again. Still he smiled.

“Would it be possible for you to forget me, then?”

Jack didn’t look at him.

“No, no it wouldn’t be.”

The ephemeral mayfly, like ethereal peace itself, having alighted on the bush-leaf, wiggled its forelegs helplessly and, making one last jump in an attempt at flight, died and now laid in the shrubbery.

“Why’d you guys take so long?” Nick asked.

“Huh?”

“Why didn’t Judy refill her prescription before she ran out?”

Jack chuckled, this time dry and humorless.

“It’s not so easy getting medication nowadays, you know. Mrs. Crumpleton thinks a mammal’s weaker for taking them. The pharmacies in mainland Zootopia were stocked so low that they didn’t have ‘em when she first went to get the prescription filled and still hadn’t received a restock by the time she ran out.”

“Crumpleton?” asked Nick.

“She’s the head of the department of medicine.”

Nick nodded reflectively.

“How long has she been on them?”

Jack sighed.

“That’s a long story, pal.”

Nick leaned back again, wiping his tears away.

“I’ve got time.”

Jack looked the fox in the eyes and seemed to ponder something. He drummed his fingers on his lap.

“I don’t know the whole story, but I can try.”

~~~

In a big burrow home, not too far away from where we lay our story present day, a rabbit had locked herself in her bedroom. Three weeks ago, her partner was imprisoned for the murder of a sheep.

Judy Hopps sat at her desk, following her hastily scribbled notes with a carrot pen. She mouthed the words on the page to herself as she went along, trying to find some small bit of the case that didn’t make sense, and, to her horror, all of it did.  There was a knock at the door. Judy grumbled.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Trisha, Judy, can I come in?”

Judy said nothing.

“Please?”

And still Judy said nothing. Trisha took this as a reluctant “yes”.

“Your boss called,” said Trisha. Judy was still reading three news articles and scribbling her own annotations around the margins wherever she could fit them in.  “I said, your boss called.”

Judy, who had just heard her sister for the first time, stayed her pen.

“What?”

“He said your vacation’s up. He also wanted to know why you haven’t been answering his calls.” Trisha took a seat on her sister’s bed and watched the younger doe’s eyes trace over the newspaper once more before shifting their attention to the floor. “I told him your phone broke your second day back home.”

Trisha crossed her arms.

Judy sighed shakily.

“He said you’re needed back at the station tomorrow afternoon.” Trisha looked at her sister sympathetically.

The little room, burrowed underground, was deafeningly quiet.

“Ok.” The tone of Judy’s voice was flat.

Trisha moved her feet uneasily beneath herself.

“Is there anything else he wanted?” asked Judy.

Trisha bit her lip.

“Ye- yes…”

Judy arched an eyebrow. She seemed to demand an answer.

“Judy…”

“Yes?”

“I need you to react rationally.”

Judy didn’t move a muscle.

“He wants to introduce you to your new partner.”

…

“Swinton!” The pig greeted Judy, taking her paw in her own as the two rose from their seats, the day’s assignments having just been parceled out. The grip of her hoof pinched Judy’s fingers together in the most uncomfortable way.

“Swinton?”

“Yes, Swinton! Or, if you’d rather us be on a first name basis,” the pig had a distinct transatlantic accent, like an actress starring in an old 1930’s film, speaking with a rounded voice and light R sounds, “Johana will do. You’ll find my dearest friends call me Johana; you’ll meet them all soon, I’m sure.”

Judy Hopps was thunderstruck. Johanna Swinton beamed. The other officers were quickly evacuating the bullpen, leaving the two alone.

“It’s just such – Ah – such a pleasure to meet you, Judy. Oh! Can I call you that? You never agreed to the whole first name thing. Is this ok?”

The word “no” had just barely formed on Judy’s lips before the pig began prattling on again.

“Oh, goodness, you cannot _begin_ to understand how exciting it is to have you as a friend, heck – oh, is that alright to say that? Is it fine if I curse? Oh, well, anyways, I had not even considered the possibility of placement into precinct one. Certainly didn’t think I’d be assigned to you!” She finished the sentence by smacking her lips together.

One of the last officers to leave the bullpen, a red fox called Barrymore, sneaked a sanctimonious stare at the duo. He scoffed and turned, walking out of the room.

 “I’m sure you’d find it hard to imagine-“ and she was right, Judy’s head hurt far too much to imagine much of anything at the moment “- but I was a simple farm animal before this. I did not _dare_ think I’d ever leave my family’s business, and yet here I am!”

Judy nodded along – mouth hanging partially open and eyes cloudy – as the pig yammered on and on about how she, despite being the youngest sow on the farm, worked just as hard as her father when it came to plowing the fields and how she never failed to stand up to the town bullies and several other things that Judy didn’t quite care to catch. She slowly sat down at the nearest table, resting her head in her paws, the same glossy look dominating her face.

“Oh! _Judy,”_ the pig cooed the words, her eyes suggesting that she finally noticed the strained look on her new partner’s face, “are you feeling alright? _You look positively ill.”_

Judy squinted and looked down.

“I... yeah…”

“Oh, well shucks. I suppose should drive us then?”

“Huh?”

“We were due on patrol five minutes ago, when Chief Bogo dismissed us. Night shift. Remember, dear? Get that fluffy tuckus in gear. Should I carry you?”

…

Judy struggled to climb into the passenger seat, her mouth tasting like cotton. Swinton hopped in next to her with the same cheery, gung-ho attitude she seemed to approach all things with.  An attitude Judy found vaguely familiar, though now a relic of the past. The car, old as it was and having sat out in the sun all day, smelled like something had died in it. Maybe something had.

“Is something bothering you, dear?” asked Johana.

Judy jumped in her seat, and Johana, seeing this, frowned as a mother might frown upon seeing her kit tracking muddy paw prints into the house. Judy felt like the pig was judging her, and she hated her for it. She hated her for her fake smile. She hated her for the pert little way she arched her back while driving. She hated her for the disgustingly demure way she blinked her long, well-groomed eyelashes when she talked. Most of all, and though she recognized she’d be an absolute banshee for thinking it, she hated that the woman dared to sit next to her in the patrol car and act like they were partners. Judy had never hated another mammal before. She may not have seen eye-to-eye with a lot of them, but she didn’t hate them. She never hated Gideon and she never hated the worst of the criminals she used to bring in on a daily basis. She couldn’t even bring herself to hate the judge who banished the mammal she loved to a life rotting in prison.

But today she felt as though some abominable, many-legged insect – choler encrusted – had crawled through her ear and entrenched itself in her brain, laying its wrathful eggs and causing a shock to her entire system; and so she hated Johana.  The thought of not hating the pig made her skin crawl and her fur stand up, electrified.

“Do you prefer driving?”

Judy snapped her attention to the pig again.

“Yes,” she said, gripping the grab-handle above the passenger side door.

“Is that why you’re looking so upset today, darling?” continued the pig.

Judy’s front teeth involuntarily rubbed together, squeaking audibly. The city-scape ahead of them as they passed by seemed to her unusually red for the sun having set behind the district walls a good hour ago now.

“What?” she asked.

“You didn’t seem well, so I took it upon myself to drive tonight.” Johana didn’t take her eyes off the road for a fraction of a second as they coasted down Pack Street. “I’ll be sure to leave the keys in your paws from now on.”

The handle Judy held in her paw creaked in protest, so she let it go, setting her paws in her lap.

“So I met that charming Cheetah receptionist today. Clawhauser, I believe his name was?”

“Mmm.”

“Yes… He is an absolutely charming boy, isn’t he?”

“Mmm… Mmhmm.”

“Don’t misunderstand, you’re all endearing,” Johana looked at the tight-lipped bunny, “but he is a doll; somehow sweeter than the bowl of Lucky Chomps he was scarfing down while we had chit chat. Dear, I thought we pigs could put away food!” Her last sentence was punctuated by a laugh one or two octaves higher than her normally grating voice.

Judy hated her. Her laugh was fiendish and unearthly. It was high and sweet and deceptively genuine. It was the sort of laugh that drew sailing narwhals and walruses to their oceanic deaths.  It was all wrong. Her partner’s laugh was supposed to be short and snide and punctuated by a loving stare through half-lidded eyes She clasped her shaking paws together. It was all she could do to stop herself from unbuckling and strangling the pig. What did she think she was-

Swinton turned into the approaching gas station. She parked and turned off the engine. Judy’s ears shot up. She was so surprised she forgot to look angry.

“I know you hate me, Judy.”

For the first time since she met the pig, Judy looked her in the eyes. Johana’s were a sparkly lavender color. Judy could see her own reflection in them.

“Do not think that I don’t understand the gravity of this situation, dear,” Johana continued. “I do. If I’m to tell you the truth, I don’t like it either.”

“What?” Judy mouthed the word, unable to actually form the sound.

“I know who your previous partner was.” She turned away to sigh, reluctantly bringing her gaze to meet Judy’s again. “You would have to be an absolute recluse to work at the ZPD and not know Nicholas Wilde. I, like everybody else in this department, know the bond you two had.”

Judy’s ears fell to her shoulders. She leaned forward as Johana paused, eagerly awaiting her next words.

“I guess that’s it, hmm?” the pig continued. “We know about it, but we can’t understand it? You hate me, and you’ll hate any other partner Chief Bogo assigns you, because nobody can be him.”

Judy’s eyes were red now. Her mouth was slightly open again, watching the pig in awe. She nodded gently.

“So, he didn’t do it then?”

Judy jumped back at this. She found her voice this time.

“What?”

“You’re part of the curriculum at the academy now, did you know that? We have to read up on you. There are two entire questions dedicated to you on the exam. If there’s anything I learned while reading through your biography, though, it’s the fact that you’re an absolute goody-two-shoes, dear.”

“What?” Judy repeated the word.

“You adore Mr. Wilde. I know it. You wouldn’t love him like you do if he was a killer.”

“Love?” Judy repeated the word once aloud and then three more times in her head. Swinton just nodded.

“Then we’ll clear his name.” She placed a hoof on her chest indignantly. “I, for one, won’t stand for an innocent mammal being imprisoned, in fact, that’s part of the reason I joined the-“

Judy leaned forward towards the pig, her paws no longer balled into fists but splayed out before her, her palms facing the roof of the patrol car as though she was coming to Johana in supplication. She said her next word in a voice little above a whisper.

“ _How?_ ”

Johana’s expression softened. She placed her hooves in Judy’s open paws and leaned in towards the rabbit, close enough that their foreheads touched.

“I don’t know, but will you be my partner until we can figure it out?”

With those words, whatever villainous bug had made its way into Judy’s mind had shriveled up and died, flushed out of her head with the now consistent stream of tears flowing from her burning eyes. Judy wrenched her paws from the grasp of the hooves and threw them over the pig’s shoulders instead, tugging her into a strangling hug. They sat there rocking together, Judy weeping, for a while before continuing their silent night patrol.

~~~

Nick’s cheeks felt toasty and balmy their muck as Jack retold the events. For one reason or another, warmth had finally begun to spread its loving tendrils throughout his being again. It was a familiar sort of warmth, one that seeped into his blood and burned its way through his bones, defrosting them. It traveled up to his face and into his muzzle and it curled his tight lips. It melted him in a rosy-pink way the decaying sunlight overhead couldn’t. He was alive.

“Did Judy tell you all of this?”

“Judy’s more open about these things when she’s off her medication.”

Jack smiled an awkward half smile.

Nick exhaled in slow, reverent breaths. He looked up at the clear, afternoon Bunnyburrow Sky.

“They had a lot of faith in me, didn’t they?” said Nick, an airy sort of happiness surrounding him.

Jack, however, seemed to frown.

“Yeah, I guess they did.”

Nick nodded, though his slight smile didn’t shrink. If anything, it may have grown very slightly larger. He sniffled. “But none of this tells me anything about Judy’s anxiety.”

Jack maintained his frown. “I suppose that’s what comes next.”

“Well, let’s hear it.”

“I...” Jack began, “I don’t know the whole story. I almost feel like this is something you should talk to Judy about.”

“You can tell me what you know.” Nick rubbed his paws together without thinking.

Jack looked off towards the bushes again. “So can you.”

Nick knew what he meant, and he knew that this conversation was one he was meant to have eventually. Part of him knew it the night before, when he fled.

 “I can’t tell you everything I know, but I do have some information for you,” said Nick.

“You can’t withhold information,” said Jack.

Nick let his head rest gently against the building behind them.

“You’re on a need to know basis, squirt.”

Jack crinkled his brow. “Then tell me what I need to know.”

Nick sniffled again, and he thought for a moment. He couldn’t tell them everything. He wouldn’t tell them everything. But there were some things that had to be said.

“You guys keep a list of potential Dirty Paw hideouts, don’t you?”

Jack was fidgeting with one of his cufflinks. “We do.”

“Does a bar down in the rainforest district happen to be on that list?”

Jack narrowed his eyes. “There’s one down there, yeah. Can you confirm that it _is,_ in fact, one of their outposts?”

Nick’s smile dripped away from his muzzle. Finnick wasn’t bluffing. Innocent people were going to die if he didn’t say anything.

“I can tell you that it isn’t one.”

Jack kept his paws in his lap, long ears standing at attention.

“They know you think they’re set up out there and they know the higher-ups in the government are going to order that place bombed,” Nick continued. “You need to talk to your superiors. Take it off the list.”

“But, if they knew…” it sounded as though Jack was more so pondering aloud than asking Nick a question, “why didn’t they say something? Innocent mammals could have gotten hurt.” He looked at Nick, hoping for an answer anyways.

“Just makes authority look worse in the eyes of the people. They’d be doing the Dirty Paws a favor.”

Jack snapped to attention. “And you’re still going to refuse me information?”

“Yes,” said Nick, calmly.

“Why?”

“Because I think you’re in the wrong as well,” said Nick before grabbing the Jackrabbits soft, pink, little nose, “and I hate you, that’s a big part of it as well.”

Jack drove himself cross-eyed staring at the tiny nub Nick just pinched, and though he wanted to look upset with the fox, couldn’t keep from smiling. “That’s how you see it, huh?” asked Jack, letting himself slump back against the wall.

“It is, one hundred percent,” replied Nick with a grin he hadn’t exercised in some time. A grin which, despite being framed by a blood, mucus and bile smeared muzzle, still retained just as much charm as it once had.

“And I won’t be able to convince you to be any more cooperative?” continued Jack.

“You? Of course not.”

The leaves in front of them continued to stir gently. A plastic bag blew down the alleyway, skipping awkwardly on the asphalt before catching one of Nick’s two aching feet. He shuffled it off.

“Do you think I did it?”

Jack didn’t look at him.

“Do I think you killed her?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes. Yes, I think you killed her.”

“Me too.”

And still the leaves rustled.

“Why have you been such a swell guy to me?” asked Nick.

“Because I’m just as likely a fit for your position,” replied Jack.

Nick didn’t react, at least not to any outward extent.

“You’ve done something you’re ashamed of, rabbit?”

“ _Oh yeah.”_ Jack’s voice was raspy in his reply, almost as though he was spitting the words. His eyes narrowed again as he said them, almost as though he was looking at something – or someone – with complete, vitriolic hate, though he was only staring at the bushes now, laced with dew so crystal clear you might be able to see your own reflection in it if you squinted and looked hard enough.

Nick looked down at the rabbit’s white paper bag.

“What did you do?”

“It’s not what I did, Nick, it’s what I didn’t do.”

Nick nodded. It didn’t need to be discussed. Perhaps it couldn’t be. The quietude was deafening, and there was so much that needed to be said. He placed a paw on Jacks shoulders – his paw was large enough to cover both – and rubbed the tension out. He could feel the rabbit’s bones creak as he did so. Jack didn’t fight it, but looked at Nick and almost smiled again.

“So what happened to Judy?” said Nick.

“Judy?”

“You said there’s a lot more to the story. Somewhere along the lines, things fall apart. Is that why Judy thinks I’m a monster?”

Jack placed a shaky paw on Nick’s knee.

“Nick…” he whispered.

“Yeah… yeah. I’ve just got to wonder why that Johana Swinton woman believed in me if-“

“Johana was wrong about a lot of things.”

She was there now. Up the alley stood Judy Hopps. Neither fox nor rabbit could see her from this side of the dumpster, but they didn’t have to see her to know she was there. The familiar lilt in her voice, though much colder than it had been all those years ago, was still unreservedly unforgettable. She walked purposefully down the alleyway towards them, so well composed that you’d never expect her legs to feel as board-stiff as they did now. She stopped in front of the pair.

Nick looked up at the rabbit and knew what this meant. Jack looked her in the eye. The officers were meant to find the convict. That was the way the story was meant to play out. There were rules to this game, and he’s already well accustomed to them. He’d been accustomed to them for a long time. They’ll try to debrief him, and, whether Jack likes it or not, he’ll be locked up again. Jack looked down at his feet, his pant legs dirty from sitting on the floor.

The world stopped turning as though some celestial being had placed its massive paw over it. Resignation took over. It took over every aspect of the fox’s being. He could do nothing but watch her. He couldn’t feel pain or sorrow or betrayal, but he could watch her.

Judy took a step forward towards Nick.

And another.

And she stepped to his side and she turned around. And she leaned back against the wall of the Old Folk’s home and she slid down till she sat beside them both, the three of them watching the bushes.

Jack smiled.

Nick appeared to chuckle briefly, though it may have just been a hiccup.

The world began turning again very slowly. Things came back into motion fluidly like some viscous substance, only now remembering that it was supposed to be forming a shape. Sitting there, Jack thought about how he’d traveled the world three times over before coming to work with the ZPD, and how he had never met anyone like these two. Nick watched another mayfly come buzzing by. Judy emptied her mind as though she was trying to go to sleep.

 “I’m glad we found you, Nicholas,” she said. Nick turned to her. “Please try to keep a little closer from now on. I know it’s easy to get lost here in the burrows, but we can’t come looking for you again, _understand_?”

Nick turned away again. “Yeah, I get it.”

Judy turned away.

Jack smiled a little bigger.

“They’re going to put me down after all this, aren’t they?”

Jack’s smile fell off and Judy turned to face Nick again.

“As far as I’m concerned, you’ve been as helpful as anyone could ask, Nick,” said Judy.

Nick chuckled, a definite chuckle this time, and shook his head. “That’s not it. I mean after it’s all said and done. I’m not really granted a reprieve, am I? You know I’m going back on death row after I finish helping you guys.

Jack and Judy looked at each other, unable to form the words to tell him that he was wrong. They both knew that he was right. Everyone involved did.

Judy and Jack were on the wrong side of this. The only problem was, he couldn’t be sure there was a right side anymore. The city had changed so awfully and so wholly since he went away. There was nothing he could do to change this fact. The only thing he _could_ do is what he thinks is right. These bunnies are not bad mammals. They’re actually very good. Maybe that’s something he’d known all along. They wanted the same thing. They all wanted Zootopia to be whole again.  With them at his side, maybe he could try. Then, when he retires to his jail cell again before walking that long and lonely mile, he could say he did try.

Tried to do something other than run away.

He tried to walk with them.

“I’m your dead fox walking,” Nick said, smiling, “and strangely, I think I’ll be able to settle for that.”

…

The trio sat there beside the trashcan for some time, talking about this and that, mostly frivolous stuff. Judy explained the goings on in Bunnyburrow as she understood them, though she hadn’t been here for some time herself, and was very much out of the loop. Jack recounted some of the most petty of cases they’d been on over the past couple of weeks. Nick described the rolling green hills outside of the penitentiary which to him seemed rather dull, though Jack found the idea scenic. Nick joked that he could see them if he tagged along when Judy brought him back to the hell hole. If one were without context and found the three mammals chatting, they’d think the trio strange for talking as if they were sitting around a water-cooler and not a dumpster.

“Ah!” Jack lifted up his white paper bag, placing it in Judy’s lap. “I forgot to give you these.”

Judy gave him a smile and a nod of gratitude. “I’ve been missing these-“

But the mammal’s collective attention was stolen by the sound of something. Down the alley, gentle footsteps on asphalt could be heard, and behind them, the plodding pace of a larger mammal echoed. The three stood up quickly, almost as though they were ashamed of what they were doing.

Judy’s ears drooped.

A little bunny, probably around ten or eleven – and a bright, warm white in color – skipped along the path, his long, floppy ears trailing behind him. His father, a farmer, held his son’s paw as he checked his smartphone. It wasn’t until he looked up to see the trio of mammals standing only a few feet down the alley did he stop his plodding pace.

There, down the alley, stood Stu Hopps and a young buck. Judy’s father accompanied by one of her siblings.

Neither party said anything for a while.

Nick felt a dreadful chill blow through him again. He’d put Judy through hell. Now he was there before her father, bare, defenseless and deserving of whatever fury the older rabbit might have for him. Jack’s gaze shifted from Judy to Nick to Stu. Judy stood with her arms folded tight across her chest, her face as firm and unyielding as a Tundratown club bouncer’s.

Nick took the first shaky step forward towards Stu. He stumbled, slightly, but took another before falling down to his knees. He looked up at the buck with shame in his eyes and his arms extended in supplication. The little one beside Stu looked at the fox with some mixture of curiosity and pity. Stu took a step forward towards the Fox.

And another.

And another.

He was a step away. Nick tried to meet his eyes. Stu didn’t bother making eye contact. The father rabbit emanated a vicious heat that one could see almost physically manifest around him. The air was taut with outrage. Justifiable outrage. There was something about the way he carried himself as his feelings boiled over and out of him that told you he knew he was justified. Nick’s collar clicked and clicked and clicked until it zapped him hard enough to singe the fur around his neck.  Stu’s paw was balled into a tight fist. Jack watched on. Terror piqued.

And Stu stepped past the fox.

Nick looked up to see the bunny kid standing still where he stood before. His ears, long and floppy and bright white, were wrapped around him in a sort of hug. He twisted at them nervously. His face was wrought anxiously. Nick scrambled to turn around.

Stu slowed down as he approached the two rabbit officers, eventually coming to a reluctant stop – though it was clear that part of him wanted to bulldoze through anyways – in front of his daughter.

The father sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, unable to find the words he wanted to say right away. He stuck his index finger out of his fist-shaped paw and pointed it at Judy’s face. He was seething. He turned around and stomped the ground before facing his daughter again, leaning in close enough for her to smell his warm breath.

Judy stood there unaffected and cold. Her arms stayed crossed.

“Where were you?” Stu asked through his teeth, his voice sounding like a tea kettle piping out steam.

“Pa!” The young bunny in the back had shouted out to his father, but Stu didn’t respond, instead remaining locked in a gaze with Judy’s icy eyes.

“Your brother needed you,” said Stu.

Judy didn’t shift. She remained frozen in place. Her face was a frigid example of defiance.

“Judy, Pa!” the kit in the back cried out again, “Please!” He held wrapped his ears even closer to himself, if that was possible. His eyes were bleary now. He looked to be on the verge of tears.

Jack’s shoulders drooped along with his ears.”

Nick watched Stu breath out haughtily. “It’s been hard back home for Charlie without you, you know? You’re the only one who can calm him down. He’s confused and scared, Judy.”

“I-“ Judy lost her voice for a moment, only a moment. “-I wasn’t the one who got him into this mess.”

“He’s just a kit! _He_ doesn’t know what he’s got himself into!”

Jack was looking away now, was he about to cry?

“Judy!” the kit behind them screamed.

Judy finally broke her focused stare at her father. She looked towards the little one.

“Judy, please come home,” said the kit in a voice trying hard to avoid becoming a feeble whimper. “Dad’s right, Charlie needs you. He’s so scared Judy, I…”

Judy looked away, then back at her father. She uncrossed her arms.

Jack’s paws were in his pockets now.

“I didn’t need to give the ZPD any more reason to come visit you.” Judy hissed the words. “You know they’ll come and check on me if I went travel back home.”

“Don’t you think that chicken’s flown the coop at this point? Come on Jude! What does it matter anymore!?”

Judy leaned in towards her father.

“Don’t you think it will only be worse on him if _they_ show up?”

“If that fox comes to my farm, Judy, I swear I’ll kill him,” Stu hissed.

“You do that and we’re _all_ screwed, dad.”

“So what, Judy? It’s fine if Charlie gets screwed but as long as the rest of us are fine-“

“Mr. Hopps, please. Don’t make this harder than it already is.” Jack was speaking, but he wouldn’t look at Stu.

“You don’t need the ZPD down at the farm. Especially not now,” said Judy. “Just, don’t give them any reason to come to the burrows. You all have a nice thing going on down here.” She turned away and almost looked sorry for saying it.

“Without you!?” Stu turned away from the rabbits again, shaking his head slowly. He snatched his carrot hat off his head with one of his large paws, threw it on the ground and stomped on it. Everyone watched him in silence. When he was finally satisfied he was huffing and puffing. He looked like he was about to keel over due to heart troubles, but, if only for the fiery air about him keeping him alive, he didn’t.

“I’m not going to be able to take much more of this shit…” he said, looking down at the ground, paws on his knees, catching his breath. It was then that his eyes finally rested on Nick. Stu looked at the broken, foetid fox kneeling on the ground in front of him. He spared one glance at the disheveled figure and shook his head.

“This Nick?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Judy.

“Then I guess I _am_ having the ZPD over today then.”

“What?” asked Judy.

“You’re all coming home with me,” said Stu.

Judy and Jack looked at one another, bewildered.

“No, we aren’t,” said Judy.

“Nicholas needs grooming, doesn’t he?”

Now it was Nick’s turn to look confused.

“I-“ Judy began, but her father cut her off.

“Nobody’s going to want to work on him with that damned thing around his neck. And there ain’t no telling the kinds of fleas and worms he’s got in him now. You’re going to let him go on like that?”

“I have a shower…” said Judy.

Stu laughed a laugh so loud that it seemed to be more at her expense than for his own enjoyment. Nick, Jack and the young buck chuckled and giggled as well, the tension in the air slowly dissipating. Jack quieted down when Judy shot him a stern look. The kit finally let go of his ears and let them flop wildly behind him as he ran up to the rest of the group, joining them.

“Dad…”

“I’m not taking no for an answer, Jude.”

“Judy…” It was Jack speaking now. “I think we best just go along with it.”

“Jack!”

“The ZPD is going to have to come around and see the place again soon anyways. We might as well be around if they knock on the front door tonight.”

“But, the case-“

“Can be worked on from here.” Jack smiled tentatively. “Right? We know they’re somewhere out here now-” Jack looked at Nick when he said this, and Nick just rolled his eyes. “-so it only makes sense for us to do a little bit of searching while we’re in the area.”

Everyone looked at Judy.

She looked at each of them, one by one. Her partner, her father, her brother, the fox on the floor. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Fine.”

The air was clean again. The bushes beside them seemed to shake off tensions previously built up. For being winter, and the sun now having hidden itself behind the convenience store, the alley seemed distinctly summery.

The kit spared no further time in tossing his ears over his shoulders and skipping over to Nick to help him up off the floor. The rabbit put the foxes arm over his shoulder and, despite his small, frail and somewhat effeminate frame, managed to lift the vulpine back up to his feet.

“I’m Joey, by the way,” said the little buck. “Do you remember me?”

“I-“ Nick started, still startled by the kit’s ability to lift up mammals four times his size.

“It’s fine if you don’t, I was only like, five…” he stopped to count the digits on his paws, “Yeah, five, when you last visited us.” He grinned toothily at the fox. “So there’s that.”

“Right…” said Nick, still confused, though smiling all the same.

“Alright then, let’s get a move on. Night’s on its way here and my eyesight isn’t what it used to be,” said Stu, beginning to walk away.

Jack and Nick followed down the alley, the way Stu and Joey had come from. While they weren’t looking and their backs were turned, Judy took the failsafe device from her police jacket pocket and, exchanging it for her medication in the white bag Jack had given her, opened the dumpster and tossed it in.

…

Nick stopped at the mouth of the alleyway. He had completely forgotten what was outside his immediate field of view.

Bunnies. Lots and lots of bunnies. Even this late in the day, the main street of Bunnyburrow was teaming with rabbits going about their business. And here he was, a big, bad convict fox, standing there in the shadows between two buildings. A fox that was locked up in the first place for eating prey.

“Get a move on now, son. Like I said, day’s old and night’s coming. I’m already getting a little cold,” called Stu, already on the main street again.

Judy brushed past Nick, unthinking.

Nick anxiously picked at the grime in the grooves of his paw pads.

Nothing to be done.

He took the first tentative step out of the alley and into town. And immediately the rabbit’s collective attention snapped to him. He kept his head down as he tried to keep up with the rest of his bunny entourage. Still the gazes followed him.

But then he heard their voices.

“Hey, wasn’t that Judy’s partner…”

“Is that guy ok?”

“Mikey, ask that fox if he needs help- oh, I think he’s with them…”

He scuttled along to catch up with the Hopps family, but part of him felt a little bit better, if not confused.

…

Nick listened to the clicking of the truck door lock as Joey climbed in beside him. The four bunnies were all in the truck with him, surrounding and almost suffocating him in a massive, soft pocket of fluff. Stu handed Judy a water bottle to help down her medication, which she did before placing the pill vial back into her jacket pocket. Nick was certain to give Joey as much room as he could spare so that the little one didn’t have to get too close to the grimy fox. Consequently, Jack was squished into the corner. Joey didn’t seem to mind either way. Nick licked his lips, and Joey watched.

“Mr. Nick?” he said.

Nick looked down at the kit, an eyebrow raised.

“Are your lips chapped?” continued the kit.

“I… well, yeah, I guess they are,” said Nick.

“Do you want my lip balm?”

The truck had started up and begun clunking its way down the road, but Nick was still stuck in time.

“What kind?” he asked.

“Raspberry,” said Joey, handing the fox the tube of balm. Nick pinched it between his claws, eyeing it carefully.

“Tha- thank you…”

“No problem,” said Joey, now facing forward so as to watch the town scroll past them as they went down the dirty path towards the Hopps family farm.

He turned back to fox.

“You can keep that, by the way.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m finished! With finals! Finally! My goal for my first year of college was to maintain a 4.0, so I kinda pushed the story to the side these last couple of weeks. Sorry about that. This fic’s a bit of an emotional drainer to write for, and I already had quite a bit on my plate. I’m out of school now, though, and I should have more free time. Hope that means more consistent updates. I’ve been looking forward to these next few chapters since I began this story, so I’m hoping to have something neat for you all soon. Only took me nearly a year to get to it. :P


	9. St. Burrow's Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Where in the world do you find yourself most at peace? Perhaps you prefer lounging in the sun by a lakeside or sitting out on your front porch during summer. Personally, I prefer sitting on a fluffy rug in front of the warm rays of a fireplace, idle family chit chat and the sizzle of the flames that reach out to stroke my face serving as my lullaby.

Nick sat comfortably smushed in the rabbit filled beater-truck, windows rolled down and wind licking through his fur. Joey hummed a song and kicked his legs into the air as they chugged along, bumping Nick’s feet every now and again in an attempt to start a game of footsies. The tired truck tires spun swirling dust clouds into life, filling the crepuscular, delphic deluge of night-light around them with a soft brown hue. Nick blinked dirt out of his eyes.

He placed the length of his arm over Jack’s shoulder – Jack looking back, pissy, with a crinkled pink nose – and turned to stare out Joey’s window. Jack shifted around in an attempt to brush Nick off his shoulder, and Nick ignored him.

 Grass, growing tall on the winding hills, wiggled happily in the wind. From inside the truck, the landscape looked like a layer of moss spread over a thundering sea top, the sea ceasing its unchallengeable undulations only because the rabbits need a place to lay their soft, fuzzy heads at night.  Jack grabbed Nick’s arm with both paws, tugging hard to try to move the furry limb from around the crook of his neck, and Nick ignored him.

Stu couldn’t see any further than the warm orange glow of the headlights allowed him, but Nick could see plenty as he turned to look out Jack’s window. A party of crickets sat congregated on a stone, chirping and whirring as if they were saluting the truck _kerchunking_ past them. There was plenty to see out here. Jack rolled his shoulders, shrugged them, wiggled and bounced, and Nick ignored him.

The bright luster seeping from the open windows placed higgeldy-piggeldy on the rolling hills, those burrow homes, projected a perfect image of tranquility. Nick, for the moment, forgot all about the defense collar fastened around his neck. In that moment, just for that moment, a part of him, as alive as any other creature on the earth, that cold metal circlet, was one entity, and he was another- entirely separate from it. Separate from its beeps and whirrs and its propensity to singe the fur around his neck. Jack grabbed Nick’s arm again and tried to lift it-

“Would you knock that off?” said the fox in a low whisper, obviously annoyed with these frustrating interruptions to his poetic musings.

Jack grumbled something, folding his arms and turning to face his corner of the truck. Nick ran a thumb ‘round the base of the rabbit’s ear, his eyes still focused on the passing scenery just outside the window.

Everywhere was quiet nowadays, but the burrows were especially quiet at this time of night. In an era before the world turned itself onto its head, Downtown Zootopia bustled and bursted with sound and music. Today, it was just as silent as the burrows.

Still, something was different here.

The newfound silence of the city spun threads of horror in the fox’s stomach as he listened to the abysmal absence of noise. He felt like he was on the edge of the Savanna Central Great District Bridge, wobbling in an airy and tentative wind that, while not blowing hard enough to send him hurtling over the side just yet, could.

The older, more refined silence of the burrows was so, so very different.  It was warm stillness. He didn’t have to see through the beaming windows of the burrow homes to tell that somewhere inside, a mother was preparing dinner for her kits. A father was watching television in the deep den, curling his toes after a long day at work. Siblings were bickering back and forth and, when their parents step out of the room again after scolding them, they’ll be back at it again. Somewhere, the youngest of kits sleep, eight in the afternoon being past their bed time.

Nick sat there and felt more awake than he’d felt in years. The snug atmosphere and a peculiar scent (the musty scent of rabbits?) cleared his head. Jack, who was considerably warm pressed against the fox, still had his face turned away towards the corner, arms crossed. Joey continued to bounce happily in his seat to the tune of the song inside his head. Judy’s eyes hung downcast. She picked at her face. Stu squinted in the darkness.

The truck continued on at a slow pace. And soon at a slower one. And slower still. Then it stopped altogether.

Stu blew through his bunny jowls, causing them to flap. He flung his door open and hopped out, grumbling something about the truck being a piece of junk, and propped the hood open. Curious, Jack peaked at the hood raising out of the corner of his eye but faced his corner again when he caught Nick’s stare. Nick laughed noiselessly and pinched the rabbit’s cheek.

Strangely, as if by way of some sort of magic, a butterfly came fluttering through the window and landed on Nick’s purple nose. He sniffled but it didn’t scare off. Odd, he thought, that a diurnal creature would be out busying itself during the eve of the night. Joey giggled and slowly reached his paw out, pressing it to Nick’s nose so that the insect might climb onto it. It did, and Joey watched, entranced, as the butterfly crawled around his fingers, eventually taking off again into the chilly night.

Judy craned her neck to see, her ears twitching slightly, but she said nothing.

Stu crawled back in, muttered something about needing a stepping stool to get into ‘this damn truck,’  and, with a few turns of his key, the engine sputtered back to life so that they continued chugging down the road.

Jack snored gently, a snore that sounded like a girlish-giggle, unnecessarily sweet for a buck such as himself. His head lulled against the side of the truck. Nick grinned, pet the rabbit’s ears back, and turned again to watch the night scene scroll by.

…

The truck trundled forward, barely making it into the Hopps family driveway before dying again. Stu exhaled and slammed the wheel – it honked – before putting his ride in park and hopping out to open Judy’s door for her.

“Was worried for a second that the old beater wouldn’t make it,” said Stu with a wry smile. Judy undid her seatbelt, blinked at him, and said nothing. Stu frowned.

Joey popped his own door open, his big, floppy, white ears slapping Nick in the face as he jumped out. It felt like someone whapped him with two cotton pillows. Seeing the kit wobble around on uncertain legs – numb from the long ride home – though, he found he couldn’t be mad at him. He crawled out of the truck, ducking to avoid bumping the low ceiling and raised his arms above his head to crack his back, smiling down at the giggling bunny kit.

“Long car rides always make my legs feel like carrot Jell-O!” said Joey.

“Heh, tell me about it,” said Nick.

The Hopps family burrow was massive. Of course, it would have to be. A lot of bunnies need a lot of space to do their bunny things, and these bulbous mounds provided just that. Space. If there was one thing these country rabbits enjoyed doing more than farming, as Nick understood it, it was digging.

The Hopps burrow, being one of the largest burrow homes in the county, extended as far down as 300 feet, and every inch of that space was allotted to a bedroom, bathroom, family room, or kitchen. The front entrance to the burrow itself was made entirely out of wood, painted with sweet pinks, pale yellows and mellow oranges. You wouldn’t know it at first glance, but the property extended even further over the hills. Ten acres of farmland spread out back, covering the area in the greens of garlic stalks, spinach, lettuce, peas, and kale.

Jack stood in the driveway and looked up at the face of the home, completely unaware of the fact that his little mouth was hanging open, buck teeth showing bright and white in the moonlight.

“It’s… big,” he said as Nick passed by.

“You’ve never seen it?” asked the fox.

Jack shook his head, still unable to look away. His paws were in his pockets, so Nick couldn’t have known this, but, they shook. They shook even harder than they’d been shaking these past few days.

Nick narrowed his eyes as he looked down at the rabbit, clearly in thought. Jack seemed to have forgotten about his presence already. Or maybe he was just ignoring him, still angry about the car ride.  

 “Come on now, boys, I’m getting cold out here!” Stu shouted, looking back at them. Judy and Joey stood next to their father on the porch.

Nick looked back down at Jack.

“Well, a burrow this big must be quite the sight to see for a city-slicker bun such as yourself, huh?” He nudged the rabbit before walking off to join Stu.

“Ye- yeah…” Jack rubbed his arm with his very shaky paw before stuffing said paw back into his pocket, eyes turning downcast as though he was in a dream. His head felt hot and cloudy. Stealing one last look at the outside burrow, he trotted after Nick.

The door was round and wooden. The porchlight revealed a soft pink sign hanging above their heads-  “Hopps Abode” in bright pink letters. Not wanting to spend any more time outside in the cold darkness, Stu pulled a comically massive key ring out of the front flap of his overalls and flipped to the equally massive key needed to open the door.

“Back up a bit,” he said.

The rabbits plus one fox took a step backwards.

“Little further.”

They took another.

He stuck the key into a fittingly massive keyhole and grabbed the door handle, yanking the circular door open towards them. Warmth flooded out from the interior and crashed over them, soaking their clothes and minds.

Judy and Joey seemed to be expecting it. Nick bathed in it. Jack recoiled at its initial caress.

“After ya’ll,” said Stu, though he was hidden on the other side of the massive door. “And don’t forget to wipe your feet!”

Joey hopped in place on the smiling bunny welcome mat before taking a step inside. The rest of them followed, Stu locking the door behind them.

Nick had to crouch very slightly to fit through the long hallway the Hopps patriarch lead them down. Lamps affixed to the wall spilled a tender orange glow onto the wood-paneled path, complimenting the already cozy heat radiating through the burrow.

 The first right they took brought them into what Nick assumed to be a living room. Before even turning the corner, he could feel the heat of the crackling fireplace.

Actually turning the corner, however, he met the gazes of five rabbits sitting on a massive rococo couch. They must have heard the group coming down the hall. Big rabbit ears have to be good for something, after all. Two does, Judy’s age, sat backwards on the arms of the couch.  Three young bucks, Jack’s age, still in their early twenties, craned their necks to see just what – or who – their father had brought home.

One of the bucks glanced nervously at the door on the other side of the room, as though he was expecting something.

Stu stared back at his kids. “What are _you_ all looking at-“

In that moment, _every_ rabbit’s attention snapped to the door across the room, likely an entrance to the backyard and farmland. It swung open. Bonnie, Judy’s mother, hopped through. She must have been working the fields, and was dressed in overalls fitted over her pink, plaid flannel. Smeared in dirt, she wiped the sweat from her brow.

“Billy, get me my old secateurs,” she said, wiping her feet paws on the doormat, “These green ones your pa got me are more useless than-“

And then she looked up. Took a good look at every mammal standing in the living room. And then she saw Nick. And then she saw the collar wrapped around his neck.

“Than..” she repeated as if in a trance. She couldn’t pry her eyes off him if she wanted to.

“Oh my _god_!” She covered her sweat drenched muzzle with a trembling, dirty paw. She stumbled around the couch and faltered towards the fox. She placed a paw on his back in an effort to form some half-conceived hug, but, noticing how dirty her paws were, reeled back in shame.

“I’m- I’m so sorry, Nicholas!”

He looked at Bonnie. Examined her face. What was this lovely woman on about?  He took her paws in his own and squeezed them. She stole them away and wrapped them around his torso.

“It’s fine,” he said. He wiggled his own filthy paws inches away from her face, “I’ve been playing in the dirt a good bit myself.”

Bonnie’s expression melted into a smile.

Then she looked him up and down again. She saw his collar again.

Her smile melted.

“Who did this to you?” she asked in a whisper. She looked at the thing with a sort of weird dread that was usually reserved for more hideous devils.

 “I did, Ma’am.”

Bonnie shook her head violently. Shut her eyes.

And, when she opened them, she saw another nearly forgotten face hovering ghostlike beside her husbands.

_Judy._

At the sight of her daughter, her eyes widened again to the size of dish plates. She took a cautious step away from Nick. Silent and staring, a mixture of grief for time lost and relief for the future clear on her face, she walked towards the woman.

It was hard to tell if she tripped or if she just allowed herself to fall into her daughter, but within the moment she was hugging her, smearing mud all over her clothes. She nervously ran her fingers down Judy’s gray cheeks, leaving a trail of dirt. Judy wrapped an arm around the rabbit and patted her back.

“Oh, Bon…” Stu whispered.

The mother’s voice cracked. “ _I’ve missed you_.”

 “I-“ Judy looked behind her mother to see her siblings staring at them from the couch, still dumbstruck, their mouths hanging open, eyebrows curved upwards, foreheads wrinkled.

Stu, Nick, and Jack watched in a silence they probably thought to be respectful. The lack of words and her inability to form any of her own made the fur on Judy’s neck stand up.

But Joey was more focused on the fox.

“Mr. Nick! You’re tracking mud all over the floor!” he shouted.

Bonnie and Judy turned to face them, snapped into alertness and now just as bewildered as the rest of the room.

“I- oh! Yeah-“ said Nick, not sure where to stand.

Stu pulled himself together first. “Well…well, let’s clean him up then!”  He looked at the kits sitting on the couch, “What were you waiting for? Stop bumming around and get to work! Bill, Emmett, Todd, go wash him up. Trisha, Jessie, make sure you’ve got a grooming station set up for when he’s out of the shower!”

Nick’s head spun as he tried to keep up with the orders, his attention darting from rabbit to rabbit.

The kits were surprised at first, but slowly, in a manner almost frightening, excitement began to spread amongst them. Nick didn’t like the looks on their faces

 “Well?” said Stu. “Get a move on!”

The girls scampered off down the hallway. The shorter of the two, Jessie, if Nick understood correctly, nearly vaulted over the couch. The boys rushed him with dizzying speed, like a pack of hungry… _somethings (but certainly not wolves),_ and in the most terrifying way. He’d never before thought rabbits had the capacity to be scary. They dragged him, hooting and hollering all the while, down the hallway. The last thing Nick heard before the laughter consumed him in those dark, warm halls was Stu’s voice, addressing Judy and Jack.

“Jude, do you think you and your friend here are friendly enough to help your mom out in the kitchen?”

Joey stuck his head out into the hallway and waved at Nick, wordlessly watching the fox get dragged away, a friendly – but knowing – smile on his muzzle.

..

Each and every time Nick tried to stand, he found himself yanked to the floor again, dragged by the foot, collar and front paws. The band of merry mammals tore through the burrow halls, laughing, telling jokes, banging walls, and causing a general ruckus.

They passed dozens of circular doors on their way to the bathroom, each one with a neat little sign nailed to its face, reading the names of the rabbits who reside in the room. Little rabbits whose heads peeked tentatively out of their rooms and into the doorway, curious to see what all the commotion was about.

“Wait, wait!”

But they couldn’t hear him over the noise they were making. Or, if they did hear him, they didn’t really seem to care. They stopped abruptly in front of another round door, this time with a sign reading “Bathroom,” a toilet and a toothbrush scribbled on with chalk for added charm. One of the brothers pulled the large door open with a surprising amount of ease. His ears flickered at the sound of small, plodding footsteps upon bathroom tile, followed closely by quiet, lighter steps. Finally having stopped, Nick used his elbows as leverage to sit up and look inside the now open room.

Two little rabbits, a doe in a soft green nightgown, and a shorter, fluffier rabbit in his own bluish gown, stood on stepstools near the sinks to the left side of the room.

The girl had just finished squeezing toothpaste onto a toothbrush. “Ok, Edmund, time to brush-“

“Everybody out! Dirty fox coming through!” shouted the brother with a firm grasp on Nick’s foot.

The little doe bounced up in surprise, nearly falling off the step stool and just barely regaining her balance. The smaller rabbit glanced at her and then returned to brushing his two front teeth, seemingly unaware that his older brothers had even spoken to him. Nick began to think that, despite having such large ears, rabbits were horrible listeners.

At least the girl seemed to be listening. She hopped down from the stool and approached the door tentatively. And then she saw Nick. Her forehead furrowed and an eyebrow raised in curiosity, she opened her mouth to speak, but seeing the eager looks on her brother’s faces, she shook her head and looked over her shoulder.

“C’mon Eddie! We’ll use the bathroom down near Sammie’s room.”

She frowned in annoyance at her older brothers. The foot-grabbin rabbit stuck his tongue out, a gesture his little sister reciprocated. She walked out.

They all watched her walk down the hallway.

Then they turned around. The other bunny, small and fluffy, was standing there in the doorway. His eyes were transfixed on the fox.

“Well?” said the brother holding onto Nick’s shirt collar.

The rabbit’s eyes grew slightly bigger, still studying Nick’s face. Nick raised an eyebrow. Seeing this movement from the fox assured the rabbit he _wasn’t_ just a statue, and, understanding this, the rabbit dropped his toothbrush and scampered off down the hall on all fours, horrified.

Nick felt concerned for a moment.

Then he was pulled into the bathroom. The bucks, to Nick’s massive dismay, started their hooting and hollering routine again. The room had the same basic structure as most rooms in the burrow: circular. Sinks lined the curving wall to the immediate left. The mirrors were plastered with carrot and bunny-ear stickers. On the right side of the room were a number of cabinets and three round, bowl-like depressions in the wood panel flooring.

“Buh-Buh-Buh-Bill,” began the rabbit with a hold on Nick’s collar, “go start the water.” He grinned at his brother.

The foot-holding buck relinquished the fox’s foot and bounced over to the bowls, looking inside each of them. Finding the one he approved most of, he jumped up and tugged the hanging rope cord that corresponded to that bowl. A faucet opened from above and released its water, filling the depression in the ground.

The other rabbits stood the fox up.

“Ah, thank you-“

The bucks began shouting over each other again, this time with the added noise of water crashing against water. ‘Buh-Buh-Buh-Bill’ closed the bathroom door, and within seconds the air in the room began to have that cloudy, warm smell it gets when you turn your shower onto the hottest setting.

Together, and with great difficulty, the other two bucks started tugging Nick’s shirt off. They peeled some of the crust from his chest along it.

“Ow! Wait, what are you doing!?” shouted Nick, his shirt stuck around his neck.

The bucks, not hearing the fox, started shouting over each other again.

The foot-holder rabbit, Bill, apparently, began throwing cabinet doors open, pulling out every shampoo bottle he could get his paws on.

“Hey, guys?” shouted Bill, “do you think the short haired shampoos will work on him?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” yelled one of the other two bucks, the one currently holding Nick’s arms up so that his brother could finish pulling the fox’s shirt over his head.

(“I can do it myself!”)

“Because, Todd, he’s a fox. Does his fur look short to you?” said the shirt-pulling rabbit.

“Eh…” said the arm holding rabbit, whose name was Todd, evidently, “Let’s just give them all a try. Somethings gonna remove this stink,” he continued, shouting over the roaring of the shower faucet.

(“Be gentle, you’re going to pull my fur out! Everything’s stuck together! Here, let me do it!”)

Bill gave his brother a thumbs up, arranging the shampoo bottles by size next to the tub. The other brothers had bent Nick over and were trying to find a better angle to tear the shirt off of him. The nameless rabbit ripped it off before falling backwards with a triumphant ‘woop!’

They threw the shirt near the sinks. Nick stood upright again, rubbing a spot on his back where the fur tore a little too hard. He hadn’t noticed, however, that Todd was behind him, slipping his fingers through the fox’s belt loops.

“Hey guys, any requests?” asked Todd.

Nick turned around to see the rabbit.

But it was too late.

Bill looked up from his shampoo organizing. “Yeah, lose the shorts!”

And with that, the buck yanked down, Nick’s shorts and boxers now around his ankles. He let out a shocked, squeaky cry, and tried to cover himself up.

“Woo!” shouted the brothers together. They howled with laughter.

“What is _wrong_ with you guys!?”

Choosing not to answer, Todd pulled his own shirt off.

The unnamed rabbit helped wrangle the shorts off Nick’s ankles, tossing them on top of his shirt.

Nick whined.

Bill looked up excitedly from shampoo duty again and eagerly started stripping as well. One by one, they threw their clothes into a new pile. Bill made his way over to them and, together, they picked Nick up.

“No! _No!”_

They tossed him into the pooling tub. He swished up the side before sliding back down to the center. The brothers, loud as ever, jumped in after him, their giggling increased ten-fold. They helped him to his feet and poured dollops of shampoo into their fluffy, wet paws.

If I described the washing process in great detail, your parents wouldn’t let you read this.

“I’m Emmet, by the way,” said the unnamed rabbit currently sponging the underside of Nick’s muzzle.

“Pleasure to meet you,” said Nick, eyes half-lidded, lips fixed in a frustrated frown.

But Emmett’s smile didn’t wane, not a bit. He scrubbed harder. “You know, you were a _huge_ influence on me during my younger, vulnerable, teenage years.”

Nick eyed the rabbit more seriously. Todd was scrubbing his underarms, Bill in between his toes. “Oh?”

“Yeah, totally changed the trajectory of my career.”

“You became a cop?”

“No, a conman, though I prefer entrepreneur.”

“That’s… not a good thing-“

Nick choked on soap. Todd, finished with the armpits, had taken to scrubbing the face.

“Gotta get that crust off, hold still, foxy…”

…

“Woah! Watch where those paws are heading!”

“This better?”

“No- wait… actually… actually, yeah! Yeah! Can you scrub a little harder? That’s the spot!”

…

The kitchen hopped wildly around Jack. He stood in front of one of the many sinks, cutting garlic cloves while rabbits of all ages came running in and out of the circular room, from pantry to kitchen to dining hall, carrying vegetables in various stages of cooked completion.

It was actually kind of nice.

The kits would toddle over to their mother, who’d lift the plates of greens right up and out of their tiny paws, at which point they’d go back to talking amongst their siblings while picking up a completed dish to bring to the dining room.

Jack smiled.

Bonnie and Judy worked almost wordlessly beside one another. Jack caught the older doe whisper something to her daughter out of the corner of her muzzle every now and again, but there was little hope of hearing them over the rabble of other rabbits.

He turned his focus back on the cloves, but-

 _Strange_ , he thought to himself.

His paws were quivering again. Even in the cozy, underground rooms of the burrow, he was shaking like he had been doused with ice water. His spine tingled with the same dark terror as it did when he was outside in the city.

He plucked another clove from the garlic bulb and lined it up. It was in that moment that he realized just how big the kitchen knife was. Its blade ran eight inches from the handle, and he could almost see his reflection in its polished surface. Almost, because his vision was swimming now. He adjusted the blade.

Was the garlic moving away from the knife?

He adjusted once more.

And again, it leaned away from the blade’s edge.

He gripped the clove tight – white knuckle tight – in his left paw and the knife handle in his right.

He chopped.

“Ow!”

Judy’s attention snapped towards the buck’s workstation immediately. “Jack?” Her tone was laced with concern and sounded foreign to his ears after hearing so few words from her since they’d arrived here.

Bonnie must have been equally surprised, as she turned to her daughter first, only looking over at Jack when she traced the younger doe’s gaze.

He bled on the garlic. The cutting board. The dish towel under it. The blood had already begun dripping down onto the kitchen floor.

“Je- geez…” muttered Judy. She pulled another towel from a nearby rack and rushed over to him. Bonnie placed her own knife down and followed.

Judy wrapped his butchered thumb in her towel. “Geez, Jack, you’re really bleeding…”

“Yeah, I don’t know…” He looked at the thumb, saw that it was sliced open, and looked away again, cringing.

“Let me see…” said Bonnie. She took a firm – but gentle – grip on the sometimes white – sometimes red paw. Her eyes ran over it, almost as though she was trying to see if he had actually cut it as bad as it looked.

She watched the wound run for a while. Watched it soak into her dish towel. By the look on her face, you’d think she was trying reading Jack himself through his blood. Trying to gain some sort of insight into him as a person through the red ichor. She decided that it looked pretty bad. “Judy, dear,” she said, “get this boy down to Sarah so that she can stitch him up. He’s going to bleed out at this rate.”

The kits continued chittering obliviously. With their mom’s attention elsewhere, they began stacking their plates on the counter top beside her, then running off to continue with their duties.

Judy had already begun to lead him away by his good paw. She felt how hot it was, but chose not to mention it.

“Sorry- I’m so sorry Mrs. Hopps”

Bonnie just nodded at him, calm. “Don’t worry yourself over it, just get that looked at. Sarah runs a clinic downtown, so you’ll be alright, but you’ve gotta go. Her rooms just a few doors down from here.” She pointed at his paw. “Keep pressure on it.” And with that, she went to wash his blood off her paws before getting back to dinner.

“S-sorry…” he mumbled again as Judy took him into the hallway.

“What the heck was that all about?” she whispered as they walked.

“I don’t know I just- I felt dizzy. Must’ve missed.” He tripped a little as he tried to keep up with her. “I’m cold.”

She squeezed his good paw. It was still really hot. “You can sit out by the dining room fire when we get you stitched up, does that sound good?”

“It does…” He closed his eyes, moved to rub them with his bloody paw, and decided that would be silly. “I can help out in the kitchen again if you need me-“

“-No,” Judy interrupted. “No, I’m going back after this. You should sit down if you’re not feeling good.”

“You sure?”

“We’ll have all the paws we need.” She paused, smiled. “You see how hectic it can get in there. Fewer rabbits running around the better.”

He smiled back at her, a little woozy. “Yeah…”

Still, his veins felt icy as they walked down that orange-lit hall.

…

“So, how are you feeling?” asked Emmett, running a hot towel over his damp ears as the group walked down the hallway.

“Like my personal space has been violated,” said Nick, holding his own towel tight around his waist. There weren’t any fox-sized clothes in the laundry. Go figure. He was, however, quite happy to be walking down the hall of his own accord this time. “I do feel squeaky clean, though.” He smiled

“Personal space? In the burrows?” said Emmett, and the brothers guffawed again. “There’s no such thing as ‘personal space’ down here. You can’t go a day without seeing _somebody’s_ tallywacker in the shower.”

Nick laughed so hard he started choking.

“Somebody’s _what_?” he coughed.

Emmett grinned, elbowing the fox in the side. Nick was still trying to compose himself. “Yeah, yeah, yuck it up. Burrow bunnies talk funny.”

Nick smiled widely at him. “You do.”

“What do you call ‘em then?”

“Schlong, Mr. Big, dick,” Nick counted his fingers, “yogurt slinger was a favorite of mine for a while…”

Emmet smiled a half-lidded smile, likely another something Nick influenced him in. “Does your mommy know you talk like that?”

“Not anymore!” said Nick loudly, flippantly. He looked down the long hallway. “When she was alive-“

Todd stole a furtive look at Emmett behind Nick’s back, mouthing the words “what the fuck!?” Emmett shrugged with an uncomfortable look on his face.

“- my parents made sure I was a good kit. Then dad left and, well, I tried to keep up the good boy act for her, but you all see how well that worked out.”

Bill hopped to catch up to Nick, who was walking faster than the rest of the group now. “Dad left?”

Nick looked straight ahead as he walked. “Left.”

“To go where?”

“The other side of the world for all it matters.” Nick looked back down the hall. “Guess there are a few more differences between us rabbits and foxes. I mean- besides what we call our junk.”

“Hahaha yeah-“ laughed Emmett, nervously. He stopped in front of an open doorway. “Well, here’s the living room, better step inside!”

Nick nodded, gripping his towel. He walked through. The rabbits looked at one another before going in after him, sucking air through their teeth as if to say: “ _yikes_ ”.

Inside stood Jessie, Trisha, and Stu. More interesting, however, was the rocking chair in the center of the room, and the beauty supply kits sitting open on the table beside it. Nail files, hair clippers and a number of different colognes.

“Who’s all this for?” asked Nick.

Jessie strolled over to the rocking chair, putting her arms around its back. “You, of course.” She smiled.

Stu looked the fox up and down. “Why have you got this boy walking around stark naked ‘cept for a towel?”

“We ain’t got no clean fox clothes, Pa!” said Todd.

“Then go down to Gideon’s and see if he’s got anything to spare!”

The two looked at each other in silence.

“Can I drive the truck?” asked Todd.

Stu placed his paws on his hips, deep in thought. He shook his head at his son before digging around in the front pocket of his overalls, retrieving the keys and tossing them over to the younger buck. “You better be careful, boy.”

Nick watched as Todd caught the keys. “Yes! Yes! I mean, yes! I will. Be careful. Yes. Be right back, pa.” He ran out without another word.

The other brothers placed their paws on the small of Nick’s back (because they couldn’t comfortably reach up any higher) and guided him towards the rocking chair in the middle of the room. He sat down, and Trisha immediately took to filing the gnarled claws on his feet-paws.

“Well, alright then,” said Stu, straightening out his crumpled hat. “I’m going to go help your mother with dinner.” He looked at Jessie. “Don’t hurt that fox now, you hear?”

Jessie nodded with a smile and gave her father a little wave. “Got it, Pop-Pop, good luck.”

She looked at Nick as her father walked down the hallway. Nick looked at her. She snipped the air with her scissors, grinning in a manner one could only describe as disconcerting.

“Oh no, no! This won’t do!” cried Trisha. Nick looked down, worried. The doe was holding his left foot in her paws. “Ah, I’m going to need a bigger claw file. You know, you predators have such nasty claws…”

 _Rude_.

And then he looked at Jessie again.

She took a pawful of his slightly moist head fur. “This has got to be one of the longest winter coats I’ve ever seen on a fox!”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t had a fur trim in a good five years.” Trisha got down on her knees and tilted the rocking chair back so that she could get a better angle on his claws. “So it’s a wonder it’s not longer.”

“Man…” grumbled Jessie. “Shedding must be a bitch…”

“Don’t cuss, Jessie!” yelled a kit who had happened to be passing by the living room entrance.

“Right, right!” the doe shouted back.

The brothers laughed amongst themselves as they sat down on the couch again. Trisha suppressed a giggle.

Without warning, Jessie started snipping the fur around his ears, letting the shafts of red fall to the hardwood floor.

Nick startled in his seat. “Hey! Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“I’d sure hope so,” said Jessie, eyeballing another clump of fur before taking her shears to it. “I’m head fur stylist at our salon down main street. If I’ve been winging it this whole time I’m bound to have a few angry mammals knocking on my front door soon.”

“Ok, but-“ he winced as she pinched a particularly knotted clump of fur together, “trimming a rabbit’s fur is nothing like trimming a fox’s.”

She flicked his ear. “Hey, we don’t _just_ have bunnies running around these burrows! I can cut all kinds of fur.”

She handed him a mirror, and when he glanced at the reflection, he almost thought a ghost was staring back at him.

In that reflection, he saw a fox who’d gone missing for half a decade. Perfect fur length, not too long, but still long enough to be comfortable during the cold months.

Jessie handed him a second mirror, allowing him to take a look at the back.

He wiggled his ears. “That’s not bad at all. You said main street Bunnyburrow?”

Jessie had already started working on his furry torso. “Yup, Bunclips. I’ll get you a voucher.”

Nick shrugged (which led to her readjusting her scissors in frustration), “I would love to go, but I’d be surprised if your sister doesn’t put me on a leash after all that’s happened.”

The siblings laughed. Trisha crawled on her paws and knees to this other side so that she could start working on his other set of foot claws.

“I, for one,” began Emmett, “think that’s all a bunch of bee-ess. I just don’t say it out loud because I don’t want to end up with one of those _things_ around _my_ neck.”

From Trisha and Jessie came chimes of “Mhmm, mhmm.”

He felt hot in the face. “It’s really warm here,” he said. His chair was right in front of the fireplace.

“It’s St. Burrow’s fire,” said Bill, resting his feet on the arm of the couch.

“St. Burrow’s?” replied the fox.

“Mhm,” hummed Trisha, still filing away at his claws. “Founder of Bunnyburrow. If you burn wood in a soapstone fireplace in his honor, the fire will be as warm as the hearts of the occupants living in the burrow.”

Jessie made another snip. “And that means you, at least for right now.”

Nick smiled a little wider, shook his head. He didn’t think they were right. He knew they couldn’t understand what went on that night. But something about these rabbits healed him more than any shower or spa day could. There was a sense of family here he’d misplaced long ago.

“Well, that’s about it for the upper body,” said Jessie, brushing and blowing loose bits of fiery-red fur off his chest and into the air. “Take off the towel.”

Nick snapped out of his blissful musings. His ears dropped.

“What?”

“You need to take your towel off so that I can finish trimming you.”

Nick stared at her, his muzzle open wide enough that one of the bunnies could fit their entire head in it. And it may come to that if they think he’s letting those scissors anywhere near his-

“If you think I’m letting those scissors anywhere near my- _oh, you’ve got another thing coming_ -“

Jessie yanked the towel off and threw it unceremoniously over her shoulder. Nick reeled in horror, almost falling back in the rocking chair.

 “Relax, I’m just going to trim your legs and-“

“What is wrong with you rabbits!?”

Down the hall came a scampering.

“Guys! Mr. Grey, he had a few Nick sized clothes-“ Todd seemed to lose his voice when he turned the corner into the room. His eyes rested on the scene laid out in front of him. The chatty buck whispered one more word.

“Wow.”

…

“Hey, this thing is actually kind of impressive!”

“Whoa there!”

“Don’t move, Nick!”

“I _said_ ‘ _whoa there_!’ Watch the damned scissors!”

“Careful Jessie!”

“I know what I’m doing!”

“Too close! You’re getting too close with those!”

“Don’t be a scaredy-kit!”

“Let’s turn him around and trim his furry butt.”

“There we go…”

“Ouch!”

…

It was the scent of him that first caught Jack’s attention. A scent so strong he had to sit up in his chair. It wound its way through the dining room hall to reach him, mixing and mingling with the aroma of butter-baked biscuits and oven-fresh winter cherry crumble cake; all so that, before he knew it, his head was slowly craning, of its own accord, to look behind him – to find the source – and then Nick passed through the hall entrance.

Or was it Nick? The fox tiptoeing down the length of the table upon cautious, manicured feet-paws looked so far removed from the fox with whom Jack had first arrived at the burrows that he thought there may have been another fox living in the household. His fur was shorter and combed into a stylish lick at the top of his head. He had his paws shoved so deep inside his black overall pockets that his arms were pressed against his sides. His white button-up shirt fit him well, far and away better than the blue tee the prison had given him. _Everything_ seemed to fit him. Including, in an odd way, the wire-thin, awkward smile he gave Jack as he went to sit beside him.

“Hey, stranger,” said Jack, bandaged paw on his lap, “what’s _your_ name?”

“Har har,” laughed Nick, taking the napkin in front of him and folding it neatly over his lap. “You laugh, but you weren’t the one swarmed by rabbits.”

Jack snorted, rolled his shoulders. “Swarm? You make it sound like you were devoured by a pawful of bunnies.”

“I might as well have been!” whispered Nick, harshly. He caught a glimpse of the buck’s wrapped paw. “Hey, what happened there?”

Jack shrugged. “Cut my thumb slicing garlic.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Stupid. Anyways, I don’t know how you rabbits do it. I would have gone crazy with people invading my personal space all the time.”

“I had my own room growing up.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. Bonnie reached over his shoulder to place a plate in front of him. He thanked her before looking back at Jack, still confused. Then he relaxed. “Oh, right. City bunny.” He smiled.

Jack tensed up, but Nick’s attention was drawn elsewhere. The dining room had begun to fill up now, which meant more bunny rabbits had begun to notice the fox in the rabbit hole. He took this moment to really look around the room for the first time since entering.

The dining hall must have been the largest dig-out in all of the Hopps abode because at the center of the oval-shaped room stood a mile-long dining table. The room had four main entrances, from which bunnies of a variety of colors, white, black, brown and gray, poured through in jubilant droves.

In the corners furthest from where Nick currently sat (if ovals could be said to have corners), there stood two long, spiraling staircases. Younger rabbits flooded down these swirling steps like a sea of popping electricity.

A massive, golden, carrot-shaped chandelier streamed a sort of mystic, yellowish-orange light down them all.

Looking around, it was almost impossible to find a rabbit who wasn’t waving at Nick, blowing kisses in his direction, calling out “Mr. Fox!” or otherwise trying to get his attention.

Almost.

He could just barely make out under the extensive chandelier light a more solemn bunny rabbit, no older than five by the look of his chubby bunny face, who sat with his ears pressed down against the back of his head, staring at the plate set in front of him. For one reason or another, he did not seem at all impressed nor curious to find a fox holed up in his home. His sister sat in the chair beside him, occasionally stealing furtive glances at the fox.

It was the same rabbit who ran from him so fearfully back in front of the bathroom.

“Popular, hmm?” Nick heard Jack hum beside him.

 He looked down at the rabbit and leaned back in his chair slyly. He chuckled. “I used to be pretty cool with a few of Judy’s siblings. They’re just surprised to see I’m back.”

“It’s been at least five years since your last visit though, hasn’t it? Why are all the little one’s so excited? It’s not like your exceptionally cool or anything.”

Nick rolled his eyes, smiled with closed lips. “ _They’re_ happy to see a fox. Hopps kids don’t get out much until they’re grade school age.”

“Well, look at you, Hopps historian.”

Nick continued smiling dreamily. He ran his freshly-cut claws over the black denim of his overalls. “I learned from the best. Mostly because the best wouldn’t stop yapping about her family whenever she had me over for the holidays.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, she really wanted to sell me on her folks.”

“Did it work?”

Nick laughed dismissively, the hall so loud that nobody really noticed. “I loved them all from the start.”

“Then why’d you let her think you needed to be sold on the idea?”

Nick turned his smile to Jack again. But then the expression waned. Still a smile, but only just barely. “It was sweet hearing her talk about them, I guess.”

Jack’s smile slowly faded as well.

“Where is she anyways?” asked Nick.

…

Judy Hopps pushed through the bubbling white and gray sea of little kits and almost into the crowded dining hall.

She should have taken it slower.

Memories flooded back to her unstintingly. The yelling of sibling over sibling. The scent of wintry baked goods. The picture-frame-worthy image of her mother and father bustling back and forth from the kitchen to the main hall so as to make sure every rabbit had a plate in front of them. The-

The-

The fox. The fox looked different. And yet, he looked familiar. She stopped in the doorway, in a state between the dining hall and not the dining hall, her eyes wide. Nick sat there with Jack, talking about something or other. She scrambled back around the corner.

He looked different. So different. But exactly like he should. He didn’t look like he did during those horrible days leading up to his trial. He didn’t look mangy and scraggly like he did when they first left that damned prison together. He didn’t look like that thing she found behind the dumpster.

He looked like he did on those winter nights. Those late stakeouts. Those-

He looked-

He looked like Nick.

Oh, _no_.

Oh, sweet Judith. Why are you crying? Your favorite niece is at your feet now, pulling at the bottom lining of your police jacket, Judith. She’s asking what’s wrong.

…

Judy crept through the doorway, tentatively taking her seat beside Nick. She pretended she didn’t see Jack’s look of concern.

“What’s got _you_ all upset?”

She looked at the buck fleetingly, more so as a formality than anything else, and then looked away again. Bonnie laid a plate down in front of her. “Me? I’m f- I’m doing great. What-“ She placed an elbow on the dining room table, massaging her forehead with her paw. “How are you?”

Jack bit his lower lip but didn’t press any further. Part of him wanted to avoid contact with her bloodshot eyes as much as she did.

Nick pretended he didn’t notice she was doing everything within her power to avoid looking at him.

“Ma! What’s the holdup!?” yelled a rabbit sitting across from them. “Where’s the grub?”

“Charlie’s not down yet!” shouted Bonnie from the other end of the table. She got over there fast. Nick was surprised to find that he could hear her, being a mile away as she was. It must have something to do with the curious structure of the hall, he thought.

 “He’s probably not coming!” yelled the same rabbit.  “Can we eat now?” The doe beside this rabbit, presumably a sister, elbowed him hard in the side. He glared nastily at her.

“What?” shouted Bonnie. Nick had a hard time believing she actually had any trouble hearing him. Bonnie turned to Stu, who stood at the head of the table with her. She paused for a moment, not saying anything, and then whispered something into her husband’s long ear stalk. She walked away, ambling up the stairs.

Stu passed a platter of food down to the rabbit to his immediate left. And immediately the room evolved into further raucous. The rabbits around him whooped loudly. The platters were passed rabbit to rabbit like a well-train, dishes chugging along nicely and with a masterful efficiency that could have only been brought about by countless nights of the same family routine. As the platters were passed, bunnies took what they wanted and dumped it onto their own personal dinner plates. Nick was taken aback by how quickly the platters reached him.

And he was even further taken aback by all the choices they presented him with. Leek and olive tarts lined golden brown with two kinds of thinly sliced cheese, neither of which he recognized. Rich mushroom lasagna adorned with celery roots and fresh mozzarella. Biscuits slathered with a gravy that soaked into their crust. Crispy buttermilk toast, delicately sliced into rabbit shapes and just as honeyed as he thought the rivers up in bunny Heaven might be. A blueberry-raspberry jam spread – particularly exciting as blueberries weren’t in season at the moment. All of this filled his plate and the immediate area surrounding his plate.

He’d forgotten how wonderful mealtime was with the Hopps. He’d forgotten a lot of things. He was happy to have the chance to experience this again before he went back to die.

Judy had a salad.

Jack took meager portions, saying that his stomach didn’t feel exactly right at the moment. He was, however, quite impressed by the _amount_ of food being passed around. Nick heard him whisper “my God…” under his breath multiple times as several other food platters were passed their way.

Nick happily ate. He and Jack made small talk with the surrounding rabbits. He told the little ones the same stories he used to tell the old little ones, the little ones from back when times were happy. Happy like they were now. He told them what it was like to be a fox. He assured them that no, it wasn’t particularly more difficult to brush rows of sharp teeth. Judy chimed in once or twice.

Still, she avoided catching Nick in her line of sight. She focused on her salad.

“Hey, tell the one about how you and Judy met!” came a voice from the sea of rabbits.

“Oh, yeah, tell that one!” cried Emmett.

That section of the table became eerily quiet for a moment, just a moment. He turned to Judy. She wouldn’t look at him, instead sitting there, fork in hand, her eyes on her salad.

He coughed. “Like many mammals do, I suppose. We met one day in an ice cream parlor.”

The rabbits waited for the next part of the story. What happened next in the thrilling tale of how those two heroes met. It never came. Nick sat there, prodding his biscuit. The older rabbits murmured something amongst themselves. Something about how there used to be a lot more to it, they were sure, but they couldn’t remember just what it was.

The quietude was deafening. And then he realized, in a hall with hundreds of rabbits, quietude should not be deafening. He looked up to find the rest of the hall had lapsed into silence as well. Every head was turned to face the stairs. Bonnie slowly and deliberately descended the staircase. She took her place next to Stu. The rabbits weren’t looking at her.

Even slower, another rabbit descended the spirals. It was sort of hard to tell who it was from this far away, but his footsteps were loud and heavy. Unmissable. They echoed through the hall.

Joey pulled out the seat beside him. “Charlie, come sit by me! I saved you a seat!” he called, echoing in the quiet hall. There was something like anxiety in his voice. Nick could feel it.

The fox had a better view of the rabbit from this angle now. He was short. No- he was a child. No older than Joey it seemed. He was pleasingly round like his father, but only half his size. A warm brown in color. But his eyes lacked that warmth. His face still had a lot of its baby fat. He couldn’t have been older than eight or so. He didn’t say a word, but he walked towards his brother and the open chair.

And then he got closer.

The little buck’s fur was frazzled and his eyes were sunken in. He looked cool and corpse-like. There was something deeply unsettling about this boy. So aberrant in the world of the Hopps.

And then the horror of it all came crashing upon and around Nick. The fox’s eyes trailed down the rabbit’s face until it rested on something. An accursed object. Around that young boy’s neck was a metal collar, skin tight. Bulbs lit up. His body convulsed slightly as he walked.

He took his seat.

…

“He lied,” said Judy. They walked down the winding wooden hallway to the rooms they would be staying in for the night.

“Lied?” said Nick. He looked down at the rabbit. She kept her face turned from him. The hall whispered with a fake wind so cool it sent shivers up his spine, even though they were down in the heart of the burrows, the warmest place on earth at the moment.

“He lied,” repeated Jack. Nick looked down at him. Jack returned the gaze. You wouldn’t have been able to tell because he had them hidden inside his pockets, but the buck’s paws shook in a sickening manner. “You’re familiar with the whole Zootopia-Eastlanders conflict, right?”

Nick nodded his head and Jack breathed out shakily. He looked exceptionally cold. Nick felt cold, but not that cold. The rabbit was trembling.

“Well, Charlie- I guess he…” Jack wiped his brow sweat. He was surprised to find he was sweating at all. He felt so cold. He _looked_ so cold from Nick’s perspective.

Nick raised an eyebrow, “Are you ok?”

“I, yeah… I just had a lot to eat tonight, I think. I’m feeling-“

“Are you sure-“

“ _I’m feeling a little sick_ ,” Jack interjected. He wiped his brow again, looking at the sweaty back of his paw in frustration. “I just need to sit down.”

“Your guy’s room is less than a quarter mile this way. Can you make it that far?” asked Judy.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s whatever.”

“We can sit down if you’d like.”

“No, I just want to go to bed.”

Judy opened her mouth to insist on resting for a moment in one of the nearby living rooms but thought better of it. Nothing ever gets through to this rabbit, she thought to herself.

Jack cleared his throat and it sounded wet. “As I was saying,” and he wiped his brow again, “Last year, Charlie was being picked on, or… or something.” He looked to Judy, and she looked back at him, wordless. “We don’t really know what was going on. I don’t think he told us the whole story but- We were told that he warned his bully that he had friends from the Eastlands. He said he could get one of them to come out to the school and eat the kid, or something.”

“That’s… just what kits do.” Nick narrowed his eyes as he looked at the buck. His shoulders drooped. “They make stuff up. You didn’t actually believe him, did you?”

“Of course not. It wouldn’t be such a big deal down in the burrows. People are pretty laid back here,” Jack inhaled deeply, as if steadying himself, “but Charlie goes to a school up in central Zootopia.”

Nick tensed up upon hearing this.

“So, the kid goes home to tell mommy and daddy, of course, and then the cops are called.”

“ _We_ were called,” said Judy.

The hall seemed to darken a little. Bonnie and Stu must dim the lights later in the day to conserve power. You never know when a snowstorm is going to blow through and you’ll need that extra energy.

“Our orders were to take him in.”

They walked a little slower, if only so that Jack could keep up. He groped at his stomach on occasion and looked dizzy, like he could trip at any moment.

“So you did it, huh?” whispered Nick.

Every door they passed was closed, but the familiar feeling of being watched loomed over him regardless. Their voices boomed in the dark.

“Of course we did,” said Judy.

“And what happened then?”

Jack tried his hardest to stay in lockstep with the other two. “We went into questioning, which ended pretty poorly. That wasn’t our fault though.”

“What happened?”

“Barrymore sat in. He’s our boss, and also a grade-A dickhead. I wish you could meet him-“

“What did he say?”

Jack swallowed. “That uh- that we’d have to detain Charlie.”

“For what!?” cried Nick, quieting down almost immediately. He had forgotten where he was. He eyed suspiciously around him for any open doors. He wasn’t sure how much of this was common knowledge yet.

“He wanted to interview him further,” said Judy.

“You can’t just detain someone without any evidence.”

“He had the parent’s and child’s accounts.”

Nick clenched his teeth together. She still wouldn’t look at him. 

“ _That’s_ _Hearsay,_ ” he hissed.

“Doesn’t matter, times have changed. The world’s a lot scarier than it used to be,” Judy explained. “You don’t have to have pieces of a fresh corpse lying on your living room floor to be locked up nowadays.”

She spoke with a certain composed coolness that dug into him.

“I still think it’s all because Charlie is your brother. We’re not allowed to work on the case anymore, but you still have to watch the aftermath. He’s doing it because he doesn’t like you,” said Jack.

“And I don’t like him,” said Judy through gritted front teeth.

The sound of their muffled feet paws against the wooden hallway floor rang in their ears.

“He’s out now though,” said Nick.

“Yeah, until his court date. That’s why he’s got the collar on,” said Judy.

“He’s been in it since last year,” added Jack.

Nick could hardly stand wearing the thing for the last three days, let alone an entire year.

“When’s the court date?” asked Nick.

“Three days’ time,” said Judy.

Nick was taken aback. “And you hadn’t planned on visiting anytime sooner?”

“We were busy.”

How could somebody be so detached from their own flesh and blood? To think of what that little rabbit must have been going through…

Nick grumbled, “Well, at least it will all be over soon. The judge will throw the case out.”

Judy and Jack looked at each other apprehensively.

“Right?”

Jack cleared his throat. “The court’s down on Outback island.”

Nick stopped.

“We’ve got to do something-

Unconsciously, Judy’s attention snapped towards him. Their eyes finally met. “We can’t do anything other than try to make the world a better place, and going against the law won’t-”

In that moment, she realized what she’d done. She blinked. She took in the shape of him.

They had stopped in front of an open door. The sign read “Guest’s room,” with a little smiley sun beside the cursive writing.

“Uh…”

Nick held her stare.

She spoke her next few words in a quiet, raspy voice, her eyes still on Nick. “This is your room. “I’ll...”

It was strange, she couldn’t seem to find it in herself to look away from him. There was something about the shape of his face that captured her.

_My…_

He hadn’t seen that look on her face in years. A look indescribable. A look only the two of them could know.

In a flood, thoughts of what she had wanted to say to the fox came flooding back to her. Things she meant to tell him years ago. Before life went to shit. Her heart felt greedy. Judy didn’t know where to begin-

“I’ll leave my door open if you guys need anything…” she said.

Jack rushed in by them.

 …

Nick sat in an actual bed.

And he didn’t hear a single lock-tumbler click.

…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He awoke to the sound of retching. It came from behind the door of the bedroom bathroom. The light beneath the door crawled towards his circular bed, almost as though it was trying to escape from the occupant currently inside.

Jack’s bed was empty.

It was an awful, violent noise. It sounded like he was struggling. The toilet seat clapped. Nick stood up. He walked over. Put a paw on the doorknob.

And then Jack exited the bathroom.

“Are you ok-“

“I’m fine,” said the rabbit, curt. He took his suit jacket off the lounging chair.

“Where are you going?”

“Out for a drink.”

“The Hopps don’t have any alcohol, believe me, I’ve asked.” Nick smiled timidly, sitting back down on his bed.

Still, Jack was almost out the door.

“The nearest bar is miles away.”

“Fresh air then, I’m going out for air.” And with that, he was gone.

Nick fell back into the warm comforts of his sheets, though he felt a little less warm than he had before.

He couldn’t help but think that tragedy followed both he and his companions wherever they went, and that, in coming here, trouble would soon befall these peaceful burrows.

This thought niggled at his mind as he crawled between his covers and his mattress pad.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I’m thinking two-week waiting periods between updates from now on, one week- one week and a half for the shorter chapters. But ye, got lots of fun, lighthearted stuff on the way, just the stuff this story is known for. Can’t wait for the beach episode.


	10. The Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’re in bed, face stuffed into your pillow. Secretly, you have a dopey grin on your face and butterflies flittering in your stomach. Your phone is on and it casts its white light up at your bedroom ceiling. On its screen is a simple text: ‘Sleep well’. Does this remind you of anything?

_A03: The glyph ~~~ is used here to denote “flashback” sequences. When you see the ~~~, a flashback has begun, not a simple scene transition (which are denoted by the glyph: …). The flashback ends when you see ~~~ again. Remember these rules so as to avoid confusion. Happy Reading!_

 

…

It’s frustrating to be woken up suddenly, even if you had just been in the throes of a nightmare.

Angela tossed her covers off her cot in search of her phone. Not finding it, and in a sleep-drunk state of pissed-off-ness, her paws fumbled around for the light socket next to the cot, feeling for the phone charger. Once they found it, they followed the cable down under the cot, scratching at the tile floor until she could just barely feel the mobile device. She scraped the damned thing with her index claw to bring it a little closer.

Mornings that don’t begin with her searching under her cot for her phone, knocked off the bed due to her constant night-fits, have become few and far between. Oh, but still, it would have been nice to deal with the issue in the morning.  If only it hadn’t gone off, with its damned _ding-a-ling_ pricking her ears. Now she very well _has_ to look, doesn’t she?

She pinched it between two sharp claws.

_Gotcha, fucker._

She lifted it slowly, cautiously, but eager to set it back on the cot…

And, predictably, it slipped, falling back down to the floor below.

Angela collapsed back onto the mattress pad, muzzle smushed into its foam.

So be it. Doesn’t really matter. There are all kinds of webs down there and she didn’t fancy being bitten by some arachnid arthropod anyways. Thanks, but no thanks.

And then it beeped again.

She let out a whine and down the side of the cot went her arm again, wiggling and clambering for the stupid, stupid device.

_There it is._

She’d dropped it closer to the wall this time, so she only had to grip it with her whole paw and lift it up.   She let it rest in front of her for a moment, blinking sleep away from her eyes. With a press of the home button, the lock screen blinded her. She unlocked and checked the notification. It was a text.

 _Ah_.

What an exceptionally interesting development, one which nobody could have possibly seen coming. Nobody ever texts her.

Not that she’d ever admit such a thing to anyone, especially not to you.

Her index claw hung shakily over the little text bubble icon, a glowing _2_ overlaid in its bottom right-pawed corner. Should she press it? Does she really want to open this can of worms?

Oh, what does it matter, we all know she’s going to press it. There’d be no point not to. Guess there’s no point in pressing it either. 

_Just press it, Angela._

_Angela?_

With a shaky finger, she pressed it.

 

Jack: Angela

Jack: Angela?

 

Of course! Of course, it was him. Who else would have the bunny balls to bother her at… (hold on, she had to check her the time in the upper-right pawed corner of the screen) three in the morning? She pressed her face in the pillows again before mustering up the energy to reply.

 This ought to show him:

 

Angela: What the fuck is your deal, dude? Why do you only ever text me in the middle of the night?

 

There we go. She set him straight. Hope that teaches him not to be an inconsiderate douche bag, though it probably won’t. Now she just has to wait for him to respond with his usual onerous bullshit. Lucky for her, and unlucky for him, she has a myriad of tricks up her sleeve to deal with mammals like him. She’d been dying to try out some of these one-liners. Forays into the world beyond the walls of her little mechanics shop are rare, so she doesn’t run into bothersome folk very often.

Whatever, he’ll be dead as soon as he responds. _Bam, pow! Tirer commes des lapins_ , and through no one’s fault but his own.

_Yes._

Oh, as soon as he responds, she’s going to rake him over the flames. She’ll just let him have it. It’ll be like a Thanksgiving feast up in here. Or at least it would be if they lived in a backwards world where rabbit is a Thanksgiving feast staple. Or a world where Thanksgiving was a holiday period.

Regardless, it’ll be like a holiday or whatever, one where rabbits are totally cooked by sick one-liners.

Strangely, he didn’t respond.

Some sort of worry seed was planted in her gut at that moment.

Perhaps the guy needed more prodding. Of course, she’d have to then accept part of the blame for the ensuing argument. If she didn’t want to talk, she’d ignore him. Whatever. Blame like that could be easily shouldered. What couldn’t be shouldered was that awful feeling pressing at the back of her mind.

 

Angela: Jack?

 

And still no response.

Queer thoughts began to seep through her head and down into that gut of hers, watering those worry seeds.  

Where was he supposed to be right now? He said something about finding that Nick Wilde guy. What part of town did he go to? Was it dangerous over there?

Now that she thought about it, this rabbit was the only one who’d ever seemed to understand what she was going through. Compounding that, he’s the only one mammal to text her in several months. She might act like he’s a nuisance, but there was something about that rabbit. She thought she hated him, but something in his little blue eyes told her she could trust him, even if the whole his trustworthy parts formed seemed altogether untrustworthy. Dreadful branches spread throughout her body and up her throat, choking her.

What if he was in danger? What if he was dying? What if he chose to try and talk with her one last time before he bled out?

What if she just read that desperate plea and laughed at him?

 

Angela: Are you there?

Angela: Is everything ok?

 

It’s strange how nothing seemed to matter in this world anymore, and yet her heart was crawling up her throat. Shaky paws can’t hold phones, so she set hers back down on the mattress. The crown forming at the top of her tree split her head and made it hard to breathe.

But her phone beeped again.

 

Jack: Are you nagging because I woke you up?

Jack: Aren’t foxes nocturnal?

 

Relief. Relief washed over her completely, and in its hot floods that bastard tree was swept away. She knew that none of this should matter to her, but relief flowed freely anyways.

_Ah,_

She was going to kill this rabbit.

…

The moon seemed so red tonight.

At least, that’s how Jack’s strained eyes saw it. Luckily for him, there was no Hopps farmer around to catch him resting out in the wheat grass near the farm. He thumped his phone against his stitched-up paw in frustration.

Why was he doing this? What could this possibly achieve? It all seemed very stupid, even in that moment.

“C’mon… C’mon!” he hissed under his breath. There was trouble brewing in his chest again, like he was going to vomit.

Bad luck! Couldn’t get a signal.

But oh, the swelling began in his chest grew. The pain above his stomach ached him into a rocking position. If only he could just sink down into the ground. Or maybe just fall asleep. Lose consciousness.

Wait. Opening his eyes, he saw that the signal bars grew.

His texts went through.

 

Jack: Angela

Jack: Angela?

 

He waited, staring blindly at his phone for a minute. And then another minute. The thought suddenly occurred to him that she was ignoring him. Perhaps he deserved it. This was his second time texting her in the middle of the night. Nobody wants to be texted at three in the morning.

Somewhere between seeing his texts go through and the realization that he was being a nuisance, he lost his breath. If he could only get comfortable in the grass…

No matter which way he tossed or turned, he still felt sick.

His phone beeped.

 

Angela: What the fuck is your deal, dude? Why do you only ever text me in the middle of the night?

 

Oh, god, this was a horrible idea. He pissed her off. He dry-heaved into the Hopp’s wheat grass.

His phone beeped again.

What’s he gone and done this for? God, he fucked up. It’s just fuck up after fuck up-

And again, the phone beeped.

Should he bother checking to see what she sent? There’s no way it’s going to be pretty.

 

Angela: Jack?

Angela: Are you there?

Angela: Is everything ok?

 

_W-Woah…_

_It almost seemed like she cared._

_Does_ this mean she cares? Cautiously, he smiled at his phone.

 

Jack: Are you nagging because I woke you up?

Jack: Aren’t foxes nocturnal?

Angela: …

Jack: C’mon

Angela: …

Jack: Don’t give me the ellipses treatment

Jack: knock it off

Jack: !!!

Angela: No foxes aren’t nocturnal, you fluffy fucker. Whoever told you that was a blubbering nincompoop

Angela: A total waste of space

Angela: Did you tell it to yourself?

Angela: Seems like you something you would say

 

She called him fluffy, and for one reason or another, that made him smile.

 

Jack: My biology textbook told me that

Jack: You

 

Jack thought hard for a second.

Jack: damn idiot

 

_Slain._

Angela: Well I’m not nocturnal so you can stuff it.

Angela: I swear to god, you beeter have a good reason for waking me up

Angela: better*

Angela: See? I can’t even correctly

Angela: I can’t even type correctly

Angela: My phones too bright

Jack: too bright for your nocturnally adapted eyes?

Angela: Yeah. Also, it’s three in the morning.

Jack: Can you relax a little?

Jack: do you have the capacity for such things

Angela: I have the mouth capacity to eat baby bunnies like you

Jack: You can’t threaten me

Jack: I’m a cop

Jack: asshole

Angela: yes, you’re a cop asshole

Angela: Excellent. I’m glad we’ve reached this conclusion, pipsqueak

 

At the sight of the vixen’s shitty joke – which was not funny in any way, shape or form, by the way – Jack relaxed further into the grass. An easiness took hold of him and all his queasiness left him. He started to feel a little hot.

But then he looked back at his phone. The signal bars dropped.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…_

With a few quick thumps of his filleted hand - though he was pretty sure this wasn’t actually doing anything and the signal bars were jumping of their own accord - the signal restored itself.

 

Jack: Sorry, phone lost signal

Angela: Oh good. I was afraid I was going to have to actually get some sleep

Angela: Where are you anyways

Jack: Bunnyburow

Angela: Nice nice

Angela: Lots of bunnies

Angela: and burrows, I’m guessing

Angela: Sounds like your kind of place

 

The moon shone violently above him.

 

Jack: I thought I’d like it

Jack: But we’re staying with Judy’s parents. And I think it’s driving me nutty

Angela: then why don’t you just leave

Jack: I can’t. I think it’s going to be good for Judy

Angela: I think little ms. Hopps can take care of herself. She’s a big girl

Angela: bigger than you

Jack: We’re the same size

Angela: no

Jack: yes

Angela: no

Jack: Please don’t start

 

For a moment, not a text was sent from either side.

 

Jack: You can sleep if you want

Jack: I know you’re probably busy all the time

Jack: fixing stuff or whatever for people

Angela: No

Angela: It’s whatever. I don’t even have anything to do tomorrow. Nobody gives me work anymore

Angela: Plus, you’re the only one who ever texts me. So I think I’ll suffer through this

 

Somewhere, a vixen’s muzzle is pressed against her pillow. And, like, not in the good way or anything.

 

Jack: Cool. You’re the only one who texts back.

 

That same vixen breathed a sigh of relief. But a rabbit moaned at himself.

 

Angela: Are you guys still chasing after Nick

Jack: Caught

Jack: I caught him

Angela: did you really?

Jack: yes easily

Angela: Yeah?

Jack: yes, I tackled him

Angela: Did you now

Jack: we wrestled but I won because I’m surprisingly well built and large for a rabbit

Angela: ok somehow I doubt that it happened like

Angela: anything like that

Angela: because you are a horrible sarcastic devil rabbit which I hate

Angela: but I assume you are not being sarcastic when you say you caught him

Jack: yes

Jack: caught isn’t really the right word

Jack: but yes

Jack: we’re together again

Jack: Judy and I also decided against turning him in for making a break for it

Jack: which I think you might appreciate

Angela: yeah

Angela: I’ve actually done some thinking on the subject, and I’ve come to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter what you do with him

Jack: what

Angela: He’s going to die anyways

Jack: Ok

Jack: stop

Jack: lets stop with this nihilism bullshit

Angela: ?

Jack: Nick said the exact same goddamn thing

Jack: And I’m sick of it

Jack: as in I think I’m going to actually be sick

Jack: the thought makes my fucking stomach churn.

Angela: but it’s unavoidable

Angela: you’re going to die too

Jack: Ok, now that is an actual threat

Angela: look at you. You drink constantly, every day, and you’re half my size

Angela: why

Jack: you’re not exactly sober yourself most of the time

Angela: I have shit to forget

Jack: I could stand to forget a few things

Jack: maybe we’re more alike than you thought

Angela: funny

Angela: we’re all going to die, Jack. And I don’t just mean in the way that most fatalistic mammals mean it.

Angela: I mean we’re all going to be killed eventually

Angela: The worlds gone and fucked itself to shreds

Angela: You trust the mammals up top to have anyone’s best interest in mind?

Angela: Who are we to them

Angela: Who are they to us?

Angela: I’ve seen photographs of parliament members, but when have they ever made a public appearance

Angela: When have they ever shown that they give half a shit

Jack: I liked this conversation before it devolved into your deterministic musings

Jack: or evolved

Jack: that remains to be seen

Angela: I can stop

Jack: No

Jack: No, it’s ok. I just wish you weren’t so capricious

 

 

Curiously, seeing words pop up onto the screen and knowing that they come from her sort of healed Jack. He wasn’t about to tell her to stop texting him.

 

Angela: Why’d you text me anyways, rabbit?

 

There was an answer to this question buried somewhere within Jack’s psyche, but he couldn’t find it.

 

Jack: Just wanted someone to talk to

 

_Was that a weird thing to say? Yes, yes it was._

 

Angela: Then why didn’t you just come here in person

 

And things just got weirder. His breath became shallow again, but not for the same reason it did before, and not shallow enough for him to notice the change. If he did notice, he wouldn’t have acknowledged it.

 

Jack: I can’t just go back to Zootopia alone

Angela: why not

 

His paws trembled slightly.

 

Jack: I don’t have any reason to leave the burrows

Angela: Well, find one sometime

Angela: But I’m going to back to bed

Angela: Good night

 

That worked out better than anyone could have predicted. He sat his phone on his chest, looked up at the moon and smiled. Wait, she just told him good night. He picked his phone back up.

 

Jack: Goodnight

Jack: Sleep well

 

With that, he placed his phone on his chest again, clasped his paws together. So the moon looks awful to him without all the light pollution of the city. So the open hills gave him anxiety. So he felt truly alone out here. He still had pleasant thoughts of this conversation to fall asleep to. He looked up and smiled again.

Sleep overtook him

…

Such a strange rabbit, Angela thought to herself. She wasn’t sure what to think of him. He knew so much about her, but she knew so little about him.

It wasn’t like her to obsess over a person like this. Yet, here she was, dedicating her sleepless morning to it. She’ll just have to make up for it by getting more sleep here and now. Yeah, she’ll sleep until the afternoon. That way she can stay up till three in the morning, so that when the if the rabbit decides to text her again, she’ll actually be awake for it.

Not that she wants him to text her again.

…

This morning,

A rabbit has killed a hunter.

…

The morning felt wrong. You may think this a strange thought to have, but Nick’s sleep-addled mind expected to wake up to cold feet and a thin gray sheet draped over his torso. Instead, his naked body was wrapped in a billowing comforter that draped over the edges of the mattress. Speaking of mattresses, his wasn’t made of hard brick. No, he sunk into it.

It wasn’t the sound of blackjacks across bars that woke him up, but the chatter of rabbits a floor below him. Gelid halls weren’t there to surround him and make him feel half-frozen as he woke up. Being on the upper levels of the burrow, he had a window, and the sun reached through and rested on his lap.

It suddenly dawned on him just where he was.

When he looked to his right, there wasn’t a concrete wall. There was an empty bed.

_Jack?_

With an airy head, he shifted the covers off himself and stood up. The closet across from him was mirrored, and he took a second to look at himself. He raised his arms above his head, twisted one way and then the other way. Wiggled a little.

_Hehehe_

He took his clothes off the lounge chair and threw them on, looked in the mirror again, licked his paw and teased the fur above his brow into a lick.

Finger guns.

_Ugh, what a loser, but a familiar one._

It was when he peeked his head out of the bedroom door that he finally found his missing bunny rabbit. Jack Savage walked in a stupor, a smile on his muzzle and mush for legs. There was something he wanted to say to the rabbit, but he swallowed the words when he heard the door to the bedroom beside his close. Judy was just on her way out; she glanced at him and then at Jack.

“Something wrong with your bed?” she asked as the buck ambled closer to her. With a licked paw, she tried to get the stray fur at the top of the rabbit’s head to stay down. He only smiled at her. “Alright…” she said, smiling back, though clearly confused. There was a bit of dirt on his shoulder pads, so she brushed it off.

_Wait._

She turned him around. He didn’t resist, swinging his arms, oddly delighted, when she spun him. “Did you sleep outside?” He nodded. “Ooh-k...”

She looked at him with her front teeth out and head cocked to the side. He mirrored the look, clearly thought he was being funny.

“Are you feeling any better?” she asked.

“Much,” mumbled Jack, first thing he’d said all morning.

Nick looked from rabbit to rabbit. Natural light poured through high-hallway windows. Something about the scene made his lips curl sweetly.

Judy just shook her head, looked at Nick, looked away from Nick, looked back at Nick, timidly, almost like she was unsure about something, but smiling politely just the same.

“Joey stopped by my room to tell me that Mom and Dad wanted us over for breakfast with them in the kitchen instead of the hall today.” Judy nodded down the hall and turned so that the guys would follow her. “Just down this way-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” said Jack, wiping a little drool from his chin. “I can smell the baked muffins from here. Don’t need to tell _me_ where to go.”

Nick and Judy laughed.

“I’ve gotta wonder what’s got them wanting us in the kitchen though,” said Nick.

Judy waved sheepishly at one her nieces as they passed by her bedroom door. “They probably wanted privacy so that we could chat without needing to yell over five hundred other rabbits.

Jack had a glossy, but happy, look in his eye. “Maybe they want to talk where it’s not so loud.” It was barely a thought, spoken aloud. He seemed to understand that a conversation was currently happening, and was thoughtful enough to contribute, but he hadn’t fully been listening.

Nick laughed again. “I understood that much, carrot-cake. I’m wondering just what it is about this conversation that needs to be kept under wraps. Jack seemed to have stopped paying attention halfway through the sentence, but Nick didn’t mind.

For a fraction of a second, briefer than the flutter of her eyelashes, Nick noticed Judy take another glance at him. There was something like curiosity in those large rabbit eyes.

Of course, he pretended not to think anything of said glance.

…

“Come in, sit down, make yourself comfortable,” said Bonnie, dragging a wooden chair over to the table. The squeak made as it traveled across the floor mixed with the chorus of bickering bunnies in the dining room adjacent to them. The kitchen table itself was covered with muffin platters, pancake stacked plates, and rolls of steamy coffee cake. Jack followed Bonnie’s insistent motioning towards his seat before either of the other two even passed through the door frame. He wondered for a moment about how the table wasn’t there the night before, and how that meant they must have dragged it all the way over into this room just for breakfast – but that hardly mattered to him.

Bonnie laughed, not without a certain nervousness, as she watched her daughter sit down beside Jack. “We use this table when we need some alone time; get away from the kids, you know?” She laughed again, shaky. Stu glanced at her. “Need to invent these sorts of tricks as parents, otherwise you’ll always be fetching another glass of orange juice.” Jack raised his eyebrows and nodded, slowly, dreamily, his question answered without it being asked.

Swallowing unevenly, Stu chimed in, “So how’d you all sleep?”

“Fantastically,” said Jack, without any sort of hesitation. He slathered his muffin with butter.

Nick and Judy glanced at each other and wondered why he was lying for no reason. You don’t sleep ‘fantastically’ outside.

“Actually,” began Nick, “it was really nice. Haven’t slept that well in… well, years, I suppose.”

“Did you?” asked Stu. His paws were flat on the table, Nick noticed, and he still hadn’t sat down. “Well, I’m mighty pleased to hear it! If you lot would like to stay a couple of more days, that would be perfectly fine by us-“

“-What’s going on here?” asked Judy.

Stu and Bonnie looked at her, and in doing so looked like rabbits sorely pretending they didn’t understand something.

Nick and Jack looked at her. They looked like mammals sorely trying to understand something.

“We’re just extending the paw of hospitality is all,” said Stu. He dug at his shirt collar. Bonnie looked at her husband and smiled with her front teeth.

“No, that’s not it. You guys are pleasant, but not this pleasant.” Judy placed her elbows on the table and her chin in her palms. “ _What’s going on here?_ ”

The couple’s act began to deteriorate. Stu looked downcast now, and Bonnie’s lips covered her teeth.

“You’re right, Jude,” said Stu. “We should’ve known we couldn’t get anything past you. You always were our little detective-“

“Don’t butter me up,” said Judy. “What do you want from us?”

And the last of the act was packed up.

Stu finally took his seat. “Charlie’s trial is on Friday. Today’s Tuesday.”

Bonnie turned to Nick. “Charlie is-“

But Nick couldn’t bear to hear her say what she was about to say aloud. “-Yeah, they filled me in.”

Stu looked at Nick and then back at Judy. “If you guys could stay, _just_ until the trials over-“

“No,” said Judy.

Without even a moment’s hesitation, Nick turned to her. “Judy-“

“I said no.” The look in her eye made him turn away again. “There’s nothing we can do. I’m not going to trial with you. We stayed here last night because Nick needed grooming. We’re leaving once we can get our stuff together-”

_Kerchink, tink tink tink…_

There came a crash from the dining hall, closely followed by the sound of dishes clattering to the floor. The rabbit chattering grew louder, gasps of ‘ooooh…” resonating through the closed kitchen door.

Stu clenched his paws. Grumbling, as he’s been prone to do nowadays, he stood. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll handle it.”

The kitchen door glided open. That rabbit kit from before, the quiet one, stood there in the frame, the bawking of his siblings continuing on in the dining hall behind him. Blanky dragging across the floor, eyes like dish plates, he stared at Nick.

“What’s up, bud?” said Stu.

Nick turned to look at Stu- that was all it took to send the kit scuttling over to his father, climbing up Stu’s pant leg like an eager sort of alien, frightening Nick just as much as Nick had frightened him, and only stopped his frantic scramblings when he was safe in his father’s arms. He said nothing but wheezed mutely as he looked at the fox, trying to catch his breath but failing, his father’s overall straps clutched in his tiny paws.

What could he do? Nick said nothing but looked around the room. None of the other rabbits turned to look at him. They all seemed tense and eager to pretend what just happened didn’t happen.

Stu glanced at Nick then back at the kit in his arms. “Why, aren’t you being a grumpy bunny this fine morning!” Stu smiled with his front teeth. “C’mon let’s see if we can’t find what’s bothering you.” He looked back at the table. “This should only take a second. Please don’t go anywhere, Judy.”

She looked up at him, arms crossed.

Nick’s hackles raised unconsciously. It felt awful, he thought. Regardless of whether or not he was deserved it, it felt awful to be seen as something to fear. He placed his paws back onto his lap and looked down at the table.

“It’s not your fault,” whispered Bonnie before taking a muffin off the top of the stack. She picked at its top loaf. Despite the raucous in the room beside them, he didn’t need to strain his ears to hear her.

Nick looked up. “It’s fine, Mrs. Hopps.”

“No, no, I mean it. You haven’t done anything wrong.” She set the muffin down on the table. Must not have had any intentions of eating it to begin with.

“Who was that little guy?”

“Edmund.” Bonnie half-smiled. She looked down at the crumbs in front of her. “He was born a few months after you visited last time, so you never had the chance to meet.” Without thinking, she scooped the bread crumbs into a neat pile.

Judy and Jack watched wordlessly.

Nick didn’t look at the mother but he opened his mouth. “Can I ask you a question, Mrs. Hopps?”

And still the rabbit officers watched.

She didn’t look at him either. “Of course, Nicholas.”

“If it’s not my fault, who’s fault is it?”

“Are you asking me why he’s afraid of foxes?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Bonnie sighed. Jack, who seemed to have been sobered since his euphoric morning, leaned back. Judy raised out of her chair like she was about to leave, but something made her sit back down.

“I suppose that’s a reasonable question.” The mother closed her eyes for a moment, hummed softly as though she was trying to remember the inciting incident. Judy knew it was an act. There was no way she could have forgotten the day. She opened her eyes again.

“About a year ago, when they brought my Charlie back from that station up in mainland Zootopia…”

 

~~~

Joey stood on the front porch with two of his siblings, a small doe and an even smaller buck. They watched the police car come to a complete stop in their driveway.

It was another December day when dreaded Barrymore dared to drag Charlie out of the patrol car and toss him on the ground outside his parent’s home, paws cuffed behind his back, right in front of Bonnie and Stu.  

Joey watched as Jack and Judy made to move, to pick up Charlie.

Barrymore glanced behind himself. The rabbits flinched. “Don’t move,” he told them, “if you can’t touch the patrol car, you’re too far away from it.”

The officers said nothing.

“Can you touch it?”

Judy and Jack stood with their back against the cruiser. “Yes,” said Judy.

“Show me, touch it,” said Barrymore.

Willing herself not to scowl at him, Judy took two fingers, held them in front of herself so that the fox could see, and placed them on the hood of the cruiser.

“Ok, good. Things are running nicely then.”

Bonnie clutched at her husband as she saw her child on his knees. Barrymore looked up and around at the burrow, whistling through his pointy front teeth. Jack and Judy stood frozen by the patrol car. Stu’s eyes narrowed into a glower that surely would make the worst of criminals cower.

But Barrymore just smiled toothily.

“I _like_ these burrows,” he said. “Part of me wants to spend more time around these parts…”

The little rabbit beside Joey watched the fox like a fox from centuries past might have watched a rabbit.

That same red fox walked leisure circles around the driveway. Swung his paws from side to side. Occasionally got deathly close to Charlie, causing the kit to hiccup slightly as the collar administered electric shocks. Stu stood motionless, except for his eyes, which followed Barrymore closely.

The fox stopped. He turned to the farmer. “Mr. Hopps-“ He paused as though he had forgotten himself, “pardon, I meant Stuart; You’re being rude! Where’s that bunny hospitality?”

Wood creaked beneath Joey’s feet as he tried to stand perfectly still, watching from afar. “Who is this guy?” whispered the girl beside him.

“Judy’s boss…” Joey whispered back to her.

The littlest rabbit continued to watch the scene through glassy, fish bowl eyes.

“C’mon! Show me around your farm, you cute little bunny!”

A growl entirely uncharacteristic of a rabbit caught in Stu’s throat. He forced himself to swallow it down; he wouldn’t be able to suffer the consequences. Or maybe he wouldn’t be the one suffering them at all, which was an even scarier thought. “ _Ok_ ,” he said.

Charlie made to stand, which was difficult with his paws still cuffed tight. Barrymore looked over his shoulder, shot the rabbit a disapproving glare.

“Did I say you could stand?”

Charlie hiccuped the words. “I- I just- I thought-“

“Oh, you- you just- _pthhaa_! You just don’t _fucking_ move a goddamned muscle _until I give you the ok_.” He spoke those last few words through gritted teeth; then he looked back at Stu, completely composed again. He smiled. “I was shitting you, I don’t actually want a tour.” He laughed loud enough to make Charlie hiccup again and shrugged his shoulders. “If I’d have known your kit was going to get all uppity about it, I wouldn’t have brought it up.

“Alright, that about wraps this shindig up then. You’ll get a letter in the mail soon concerning this little shit’s court date.” He pulled a pad from his back pocket, scribbled something down. “The letter should say which court you’re supposed to go to – god, I hope it’s the one down on Outback Island, they don’t fool around when it comes to traitors.” The fox rolled his eyes as he continued to make check marks on his pad. “That being said, don’t expect to get in for about a year, we’re busy mammals. When you go, make sure he dresses well, bring tissues, you know- the usual.”

Edmund pushed past is his siblings, tottled down the porch steps, and ran for the fox.

“Edmund!”

“Claire, stop!” Joey caught his sister around her chest before she could run after their little brother.

The rabbit’s warpath ended less than a foot away from Barrymore. “Fuch!” he shouted, and he pulled at Barrymore’s blue slacks.

Barrymore looked down to find the rabbit, feet planted firmly in the dirt of the driveway, looking up at him.

Stu and Bonnie stared on in horror, but they did not dare speak a word.

“Fuch-” The little one turned his head to cough before looking back up at the fox, “Fuch, oo doo…” But the fox was glaring down at him now. The rabbit’s feet were not quite as firmly planted in the ground. He took a step back but didn’t stop talking. “ooo doo oo thunk o oar…”

Barrymore brought his head level to the kits, brows furrowed as much in disgust as they were in confusion. The kit swallowed hard but looked the fox in the eyes.

“What did you just say to me, _mush mouth?”_ Barrymore gnashed his teeth and took a quick step towards the rabbit.

The rabbit gasped. With another step forward from Barrymore, he fell backwards onto the ground beside his brother.

The fox looked at Bonnie and Stu. Bonnie shook terribly as she held onto her husband’s arm. Stu looked ready to pounce but knew that he couldn’t. “Who the _fuck_ taught this thing to speak?” He turned his attention towards Bonnie, who nearly jumped out of her fur. “Was it _you_?” Bonnie stood shaking in silence. “ _Was it_!?”

Bonnie whispered her words, her tongue too bone-stiff to form proper sentences. “H- he has… he has a speech disorder-“

“ _What!?_ ” At this, Bonnie melted onto the floor, her legs unable to take it anymore.  “Why can’t anyone talk right around here?” He looked back down at the youngest child, who trembled violently, winter sweat running down his nose. He growled and took another step toward the kit.

The rabbit scrambled away, and where he went nobody knew. Joey and his sister were paralyzed. They didn’t make to follow him.

Murder was not commonplace in the burrows, but if Stu thought he could get away with it, this fox would be dead.

Barrymore made his way over to Charlie, unlocked his pawcuffs, and kicked him square on the ass. “Get up.”

Struggling, Charlie tried to lift himself by his arms.

“ _Wait._ ”

Charlie stopped moving, locked in a purgatorial position between standing and staying down on the ground.

The fox looked at Stu. Bonnie was still crouched on the floor beside him.

“ _You pick him up.”_

Judy’s breath hitched, and she prayed that her boss hadn’t noticed.

Jack refused to watch.

Stu made his way over to Charlie slowly. He knelt beside his son, his overall-covered knees dirtying themselves in driveway dust.

 “ _Ok…_ ok.” The fox looked breathless and alive. “ _Cool._ Right, so, like I said before we got here, the collar’s going to stay on until the court date. Don’t try to take it off- we’ll know. Let me know when you get the letter; Judy, Jack, let’s roll.”

~~~

As it often does when you’re telling a story, time fell awkwardly and plainly out of order. What can one say in a moment like this, when a mother is sobbing across from you?

“Edmund hasn’t said a word since that day.” Bonnie wiped her eyes with the length of her arm. “You’ve gotta stay, Judith.”

Nick and Jack looked to the doe.

“Did they ever assign Charlie a lawyer?” the younger doe whispered.

Bonnie squinted through her tears, trying not to look too venomous. “No. You would have known that if you-“

“We’ll stay one more night. I can talk things over with Charlie and make sure he knows what he should and shouldn’t say. We’re leaving after that.” Judy stood up and pushed her chair in. She looked at her mom, who, with a paw to her muzzle, sobbed softly. “Would he be in his room?”

Without looking at her daughter, Bonnie nodded.

So Judy started towards the door.

Jack stood. “Judy, hold on…” 

But she was already gone and into the hallway, presumably making her way down a few floors to get to Charlie’s room. Jack shook his head, slowly took his seat again.

They let silence take over and guide them for another minute. It didn’t lead them anywhere.

So Nick spoke.

“I think things are going to be ok, Ma’am.”

He didn’t believe it, but he said it. Bonnie looked up, stole her paw away from her muzzle, and smiled a weak smile at him. It was clear that she didn’t believe it any more than he did, but she smiled anyway.

Jack coughed. “S- since we’re here, do you guys need any help around the farm?”

…

For the rest of the morning and late into the evening, Jack and Nick helped tend the Hopps family farm.

…

Down in the far reaches of the Hopps property, on the other side of a hill, there was a fishing pond.

By its waterside, on a log, sat Nick and Jack. Nick looked down into the water and saw the reflection of a moon way past waxing gibbous. Its luster filled nearby flower heads with white light. Beside him, Jack rolled up his pant legs and stuck his feet paws into the water

“You wanna run inside the burrow and get my suit jacket?”

Nick snorted, rolling up the legs of his overalls. “You mean the burrow nine acres _that-a-way?”_

“Yes, precisely that one.”

The fox dipped his feet into the pond next to Jack’s. “Not a chance, buck-o.”

“Absolutely useless,” said Jack.

“At least I don’t smell like sweat,” said Nick.

“I’m hot!”

“It’s cold today.”

“We were working all day.” Jack frowned. “How can you not be sweating?”

“Foxes don’t sweat, of course.”

Jack frowned harder. He was beginning to think his old textbooks sold him a lot of bull shit.

Not once did he consider the prospect that maybe the foxes he chooses to hang around find him an easy target to pick on.

Nick stretched his feet paws feeling the cool lake water wiggling between his toes. “Boy, I didn’t know what you were getting us into…”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t that bad.” Jack kicked his feet, causing droplets to land in their laps.

“I haven’t worked this hard in years.”

“You didn’t work out or anything while you were-“ the rabbit stopped himself mid-sentence. He furrowed his brow. “Uh-“

“While I was in prison? No.” Nick chuckled through a closed mouth. “No. You don’t try to take the gym equipment from the big guys. Learned that lesson in middle school.” They laughed. It felt good to laugh with Jack, Nick thought to himself. He smiled at their reflections in the water, the reflections just below that full moon. “But that’s no skin off my back. I was never a fan of the whole working out thing.” He splashed, just as Jack had.

“Yeah, Judy one of Judy’s brothers, Emmett, I think, said you had a squishy stomach.”

Nick snapped his attention towards Jack, looking offended. “He said _what_?”

“That you’re squishy.”

“What an asshole…” the fox whispered the words more to himself than to Jack. “Well, it’s not like you’re much better.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Man, _I’m shredded_.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I am.”

“No, you aren’t.” Nick looked the rabbit up and down. “Show me.”

“I can’t, my shirts tucked in and I don’t want to tuck it back in later.”

“Why, are your arms too tired?”

Jack closed his eyes and nodded with enough vigor to make his ears flop back and forth. “Yes.”

 paws on the log and leaned back, smug. “That’s fine, farm life isn’t for everyone.”

“I grew up on a farm.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, unsure if he heard the rabbit correctly.

“ _What?_ ”

Jack gave a brief chuckle through his nose. He didn’t look at the fox. “You were always so sure I was a city bunny, I didn’t want to spoil your fun.”

Nick was still hung up on his previous comment. “You were a burrow bunny?”

Jack shrugged. “Yeah.”

“So you grew up out here?”

“No, there’s rabbit land even further south of Bunnyburrow.”

“But you had a big family like Judy’s?”

In the night scene, Nick thought he saw a flicker of pain in the buck’s face.

“Not exactly…” said Jack.

“Tell me about it, then.”

Nick’s ears wiggled as he looked down at the buck.

“My parents were both very frail jackrabbits.” Jack smiled at the fox before turning to look at their reflections again. Nick held his eyes on the rabbit, who continued speaking in a voice growing more and more like a whisper. “Pa wasn’t anything like Mr. Hopps. Ya know, big and all that? He wasn’t much bigger than I am today. Geez, that feels weird to say. I mean, he looked so big back then. When I was really little, I had no idea how sick he was. He could lift me, so, well, I guess he seemed like the strongest rabbit in the world…” Jack seemed to realize just how quiet he had gotten and sat up straight.

“Anyways, he met my Mama at some point. They didn’t really ever explain where they first ran into each other, but they got along alright.” He laughed quietly. “She was really sick too. That probably had a lot to do with it. You’re drawn to others who are going through the same shit you are.

“Well, they settled down and made like rabbits do, I guess. Where I come from, everyone’s basically expected to have a farm. No bunny was ever ‘just’ a doctor, or ‘just’ a patrolman. Everyone did a little farming, at least on the side. So, Pa bought a fair chunk of land. Nothing anywhere near this size, but it was fair. Only problem was that neither of them could really work it, being sick as they were. Pa had to sell back most of it, which was a blow to their self-esteem.

“It might have just killed them if it hadn’t been for my sister. See, the doctor in town didn’t think that a sick couple of rabbits could ever make a rabbit kit, but they did. Clairibelle. She was sick just like our parents, and the nurses weren’t sure she was even going to make it through the night when she was born, but she pulled through. Helped a lot around the farm too, once she was old enough.” Jack swallowed. “Then, and this is the real kicker-“ he laughed, his tongue in his cheek, “they had triplets. Nobody saw that coming. I mean, rabbits are expected to have litters of up to ten kits, but not rabbits like Mama and Pa. Two girls, my sisters Jane and Sue, and a boy, me, heh heh heh… Golly, triplets.

“I don’t remember much about those days back on the farm, but I remember being all they ever bragged about. Never said a word to anyone about our farmland, but they’d always show us off to the neighbors whenever they got the chance. Pa would stick me on his shoulders as he tilled the soil so that I could watch from ‘the best seat on the farm’. We never got much work done that way, because he was always afraid I might fall off and break, but it was sort of magical in a way. I couldn’t ever sit in Mama’s lap because it caused her too much pain, but I’d lay by her feet as she worked on her sewing.

“Then, as if she was trying to prove the other bunnies wrong one last time, Mama had another litter of two.”

Nick smiled.

Jack returned it.

And then he sighed.

“As you can imagine, the story doesn’t end there.” He looked away from the fox a little too quick. “Things… happened. As they do, I suppose. One of my sisters ran away from home. She had her reasons, I guess.”

_Things happened._

 “Uh… Mama and Pa passed away that night, quietly, in their room.”

Jack refused to look at Nick, and Nick refused to look away from Jack.

“I was gone in the morning.”

“How old were you?”

“Probably around five or six.”

Nick nodded, though the rabbit didn’t see it.

“Travelled around the burrow area for a few years. You know all about that sort of thing, right?”

He didn’t wait for Nick to respond.

“I never wrote home until I moved to Zootopia with the ZIA.”

“But you wrote?”

“Yeah, once. Just to let them know what was going on.”

Nick stretched his toes in the water again.

“Did anyone write back?” he asked.

“Clairibelle.” Jack chuckled humorlessly, shook his head. “Quite a few times, actually. Wrote directly to the precinct one station.”

“Did you ever reply?”

“I never even read the later ones.”

“You’re not curious?”

“No.”

The conversation dropped to a whisper so low that the blades of grass, had they had ears, wouldn’t have been able to eavesdrop.

“What happened to the letters, then?”

“Someone at the station probably threw them away.”

“Ah.”

_There’s a cool wind blowing tonight._

“I think you should visit them again.”

“What?”

Nick gave the rabbit that half-smile of his.

“It’ll be nice. We’re sort of already in the area.”

Jack returned the smile, again, but shook his head this time.

“I-“

Nick’s smile didn’t falter.

“I don’t think I can do that, Nick. There’s too much shit back there.”

“How about a letter, then?”

The little crease lines that formed in the rabbit’s brow when he furrowed it were awfully endearing.

“A letter?” asked Jack.

“You remember the mailing address, right?”

“I… I don’t know- I mean, I do know the address, but I don’t think writing them would-“

“I stopped writing my mom after a while.”

Jack swallowed his explanation. The fox didn’t break eye-contact, just kept smiling at him.

“Back when I was in prison, ya know?” he continued. “Thought that if I just avoided her- if I just avoided the issue altogether… I thought things might feel a bit more manageable. You can be damn sure I regret that now.” He shifted around on the log. Jack, who had been studying his face, startled a little at the sudden movement. “Family’s important, Carrots…” He paused again, eyes flitting away from Jack’s face, his own brow furrowed this time. Jack still watched him intently, meeting eyes again when the fox looked back at him. “Appreciate them now, cause if you don’t, you might not have them later.”

They both turned so as to stare off at the lake again.

In the absence of words to say Nick placed a paw on the rabbit’s back. Patted him. “You know, Jack, for as frail as you say your parents were, I think you grew up to be a pretty strong rabbit.”

“I’m not so sure that’s true, Nick.”

Nick didn’t think it wise to push it. He just squirmed his paw into his overall pockets and pulled out a crushed carton of cigarettes.

“Want a smoke?” asked Nick.

 “I’m surprised Judy’s siblings let you keep those.”

“Emmet returned them to me. He said I could have them if I let him keep one.” Nick smiled.

“Did you?”

“ _Of course not._ ” He coaxed a cigarette out of the carton with a claw before turning the pack to Jack. “So, do you want one?”

Jack looked at the pack, and though he wasn’t much a fan of cigarettes, he thought he might humor the fox again. “Can we?”

Nick chuckled softly.

“We’re far away from the burrow. And I used to see Stu smoking his pipe out near the barn, we should be fine.”

Jack took a stick, stuck it in his muzzle, retrieved his lighter, and cupped his paws around his cigarette as he lit it, even though the breeze was actually quite faint now. Call it a force of habit. The warmth of the lighter soothed his aching paws. Nick sat there, watching the stars glisten in the reflection of the lake, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. Finished lighting his own cigarette, Jack watched as the fox studied the night sky above them. Nick turned to meet him.  

There was a pause. When they looked into each other’s eyes, they seemed to come to an understanding, as though rabbit and fox were ever really only different for superficial reasons. As though they could really make something out of this world if only they worked together. Such an archaic thought, Nick thought to himself. It sounds like something a starry-eyed bunny might have said years and years ago.

There would be time for fulfilling such wishes some day in the future, tonight, they’d smoke.

Without saying a word – none needed be said – Jack leaned towards the fox, flicked the lighter on and lit Nick’s cigarette. He held it there for a spell, eye contact never broken. Nick didn’t move a muscle. That moment must have lasted only a second or two, but to them, it seemed much longer.

The licking flames in the reflection of the fox’s pretty, green irises. He put the lighter out so that the ghostly red at the end of the cigarette paper could serve as their one illumination. Smoke rose up between the two of them, mixed wispily with the fox’s cloudy breath.

Finished, Jack leaned back, placed his paws on the stump they sat on. They went back to watching the wavy pond water.

Though it was December, the moon – as full as it was – seemed summery.

.

.

.

“What did I just walk into?”

Nick and Jack turned around to find Judy standing a little ways up the hill, paws in her pockets, moon at her back. They watched her for a while, and she watched them.

They smiled up at her.

Her ears twitched a little, and, they were too far away from her to notice this but, her nose twitched too. She walked down the length of the hill, joining them. They scooted down the log and she took her place next to the fox. Neither Jack nor Nick said a word about the breakfast conversation, though they all knew they would have to eventually, and Judy didn’t mention the fact that they were smoking.

…

Quietude can mean tranquility, Nick had come to understand this. The silence between those three as they walked down the side path back to the burrow was anything but awkward; that silence was comforting. They didn’t need words. In fact, speaking may just ruin everything. It’s times like these, when Judy is smiling – it’s small but most certainly there – and Jack is staring off into the crop fields their path over looked, that Nick began to remember what this whole living thing is all about.

They continued on through the wheat grass, past the fields of cabbages, around the silo-

_Oh._

As they rounded the silo, they saw a bright light, something like the light a truck’s headlights would produce in the dead of night. Whispers touched their ears hushed tones, though what the whispers were saying was anyone’s guess. Fulling rounding the silo, they found that there was a truck, and there were whisperers.

Stu and Bonnie.

And Stu’s truck.

The older rabbits looked at the trio of mammals and didn’t say anything for a moment. Moths flitted in and out of the yellow headlight-light.

“We were looking for you,” said Stu.

Nobody asked why.

“Charlie says you talked to him,” Stu continued. “Told us about how you reminded him to keep quiet unless he’s spoken to, play the child card, don’t any leading questions.”

Judy didn’t say anything, but she nodded.

“That’s not going to help him none, we both know that,” said Stu.

“It’s the best shot he’s got,” said Judy.

Stu looked hard at Judy, but it very nearly seemed like he was looking through her. If this bothered her at all, she didn’t show it. She held the ice-cold visage she always held these days.

But can it be called ‘Judy’s’ visage? Is it all just a façade? Nick thought he saw a flicker of uncertainty in her face; her mouth dropped a little, nose twitched. Or maybe he was just imagining things.

Stu leaned back against his truck. Judy stared back for a little while longer, but – and whether this was out of exhaustion or if her nerves were wearing thin, we’ll never know – eventually slumped against the silo doors. She looked at the truck, looked at her mother, looked off into the night sky. She just wouldn’t dignify her father with any further eye contact.

“Can’t you talk to your boss, get the charges changed?”

“You met him. Does that guy seem the type for changing his mind?”

“You haven’t tried!” The sound that came out of Bonnie’s mouth sounded more screech-like than she meant it to, but she couldn’t help it.

Judy closed her eyes, resting her head against the wooden door behind her.

“He’s just doing this because he can. We all know the reason Charlie’s in this mess is a bunch of horse feathers.”

Jack sort of squirmed in place, but Nick continued watching the rabbit family.

“At least come with us to the court, Judith.”

Nick was surprised to hear Stu using Judy’s full name. That was something he never did.

“What good will it do, dad?”

“You’re still the most prestigious cop in all of Zootopia. If they see you still support him-“

“The law is the way it is, and nothing I can do will change it. This isn’t a mistake we can fix.”

 “Do you know the trouble he’s in!?” Stu was yelling into the open air now.

“They’re going to kill him, dad!”

Full stop. Her parents looked like parents who’d just heard their child curse for the first time.

“Nobody ever goes to Outback court with charges like those and doesn’t end up in the god damned chair.” She threw her arms back, rattling the doors behind her. “I’m not going to fucking-“

She shook. Slammed her arms against the doors again.

“I’m not fucking watching it!”

But Stu steeled himself again, narrowed his eyes. “You’d let your brother die over a lie? Like, like some, criminal!?”

Horror collapsed over them all. Everyone’s attention snapped towards Nick. Everyone except Stu, who only very slowly turned to face the fox.

“Not- not you, Nicholas….”

Nick raised a shaky paw, a paw extra shaky because he’d been working out in the fields all day and was tired no doubt. “It’s fine, Mr. Hopps.”

“You don’t deserve to be in there any more than… than…” but the buck suddenly found himself a little choked up.

“It’s fine…” whispered Nick.

“Um… Judy…”

Jack was speaking now.

Nick looked at him, a little surprised.

 “Jack?”

“You’re going to regret this.” Jack glanced at Nick, who pretended not to notice, but whose mouth tugged up into a sly grin.

Jack took a step forward.

Judy didn’t move from him, but her chest rose and fell quickly. She watched him.

He stopped.

“I know you don’t want to see it, but you’ll regret not being there.”

Some gear turned in Judy’s head as she studied Jack’s face. Did she know about his past? Did she think him a hypocrite?

“

 “Fine.” Her tongue flicked at her two front teeth as she said the word.

Her parents froze then and there.

Tears simmered near the fur under her eyelids, but they didn’t flow.

Stu held onto the moment before asking his question. “F-fine? As in you’ll go?”

“Yeah, I’ll go.”

Judy made to stand up. Jack, still a little surprised himself, offered her a paw, which she gladly took. She dusted her pants off, stumbled a little. Jack steadied her. She wiped her eyes.

Stu leaned against his truck, ‘down-right flabbergasted’. Bonnie looked at him and looked at her daughter. Not quite sure if she believed it. Not quite sure why she didn’t feel relieved.

 “Can… can I interest you kids in a ride?” asked Stu.

“I’m not so sure I’m a kid anymore,” whispered Nick, though he wasn’t sure why he was whispering. He smiled at the buck.

Though nobody agreed to the ride, they all gathered near the truck anyways.

“If forty years old isn’t a kid anymore, then what does that make me?” asked Stu. He opened the truck door and climbed inside. The others followed.

Judy, between Jack and Nick, looked straight ahead. Nobody thought to make banter. Everyone was left to their thoughts.

That is, until they realized the truck wasn’t starting.

Stu fiddled with the key. “Wait…” He hopped outside and popped the hood.

Nick couldn’t see what was going on behind the hood, but he heard Stu curse. The buck climbed back inside but didn’t shut the door. Didn’t even sit down, just turned the key again.

“Fuck fuck fuck…”

“What’s going on-“ but his wife couldn’t finish the sentence before he was out the door again and on the other side of that hood.

_Thap thap thap-_

The sound of bunny paws beating on metal.

“Bon I-“ Stu came back around, looked inside the truck. “- I think the engine’s finally given in.”

Bonnie’s mouth opened and her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything. Not for a while.

Stu still stood there, dumb.

“How are we going to get all the way down to Outback island without a truck?” whispered Bonnie.

No responses.

“We can take it in…” said Judy in a raspy voice.

“We only have tomorrow, and there’s no way Bunnyburrow mechanic is going to see us on short notice.”

“Can we borrow a neighbor’s truck?” asked Nick.

“During harvest season?” asked Stu.

The truck was silent.

Until Jack’s phone fell out of his jacket pocket, illuminating the seat between his legs. He picked it up and looked at it, almost put it back in the pocket, but he looked at the screen. His text messaging app was open.

And then an idea came to him.

“I, uh… I think I might have somebody who can help us out.”

…

Atop a hill, not far from the rabbit family, a fox rested prone, watching them walk back to the burrow home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had a bit of a medical emergency going on Friday evening, and I didn’t get the chance to put this up. Then I looked at it yesterday morning, and realized that I didn’t like it. As you can see, I took a bit of time to do some touch ups before uploading it! Sorry about the delay I think I might just start posting on Sundays instead of Friday’s now anyways. Makes a bit more sense to me and gives me more time to edit. Hope that’s chill with you guys.


	11. Bonus Chapter: Rabbit With a Gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever been in love?

_The glyph ~~~ is used here to denote “flashback” sequences. When you see the ~~~, a flashback has begun, not a simple scene transition (which are denoted by the glyph: …). The flashback ends when you see ~~~ again. Remember these rules so as to avoid confusion. Happy Reading!_

 

…

It sure was cold for it being four in the _fucking_ afternoon! Angela sat down on her tin stool like a mammal easing herself into a chilly swimming pool, and the furry blanket she’d just gotten up to fetch did absolutely nothing to cover that hateful chill. How do mammals put up with this sort of weather?  Winter coat, winter schmoat. It doesn’t _actually_ make you any warmer.

Jack would probably believe her if she told him that.

_Heh heh heh…_

She rested her forearms on the workbench for a moment, then, bitten by a layer of frost over metal, quickly pulled away. She rolled her sleeves down some more.

Alright, time to get to work.

But get to work on what?

She sat in front of her workbench, just as she did every day at two o’ clock, and struggled to decide on what she’d be working. Sure is hard to decide on what to work on next without anybody around to hire you.

A drill motor rested in the middle of her workbench, but she didn’t want to work on a drill motor.

Whatever, she’ll just… fuss with this doohickey here-

_Tink tink…_

A bell.

_Tink tink tink tink tink tink_

_Tinktinktinktinktink_

“Coming! Coming!” she said.

Somebody was out in the front room, ringing the bell on the receptionist’s desk. Angela swiveled around on her stool, bouncing in her stride to get across the room. She ducked under a car engine suspended by chains before tiptoeing past all the scrap she’d left on the floor. Hey, she thought to herself, I could have worked on _that_. Too bad there’s a customer to deal with now. They really do show up at the worst possible times.

“Coming!” shouted Angela again. She parted the curtains separating the front room and workshop.  Rabbit ears – striped black, of course – stuck out from behind the receptionist’s desk. She paused. A white paw peaked out from behind the desk, joining the ears, and made to ring the bell again-

“Jack?”

“Hey…” came the rabbit’s voice.

Angela, still tiptoeing, walked up to the front desk and looked down- sure enough, there stood Jack Savage.

A particularly tired looking Jack Savage.

“Hey,” he said with a weak wave of his paw.

“Uh…” Angela looked around herself, a little baffled. “Hey…” She looked at him. “Don’t you have rabbit cop stuff to do or- or something?”

The buck nearly formed a sentence, but his breath escaped him. He rested his forehead on the desk before trying again. “No- not really.”

“… Would you like to come in?”

“Yup.”

Angela unlocked and lifted the partition she had installed since the rabbit’s first visit – she didn’t quite like the idea of mammals just walking into her back room unannounced – and ushered him inside. He disappeared behind the curtains, not bothering to raise his arms to part them or anything, just walked straight through. Angela stood staring at the doorway through which he had just parted. Then, she walked to the front of the store and flipped the business sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’.

_Keep your cool, Angela._

…

In the back room of the workshop, Angela dug around in her refrigerator. She pushed aside a jar of mayonnaise in search of something a rabbit could eat. All she had was two chicken and celery sandwiches, meticulously wrapped in plastic bags. These would have to do. Jack took a seat near the plastic table the vixen had set up next to her cot. He didn’t bother to look around the strangely decorated room. Paintings covered the concrete walls.  

“You look like you walked here from Bunnyburrow,” said Angela, plopping his sandwich down in front of him and pulling up a stool of her own.

He unwrapped the sandwich, tossed his chicken aside, and – without a moment’s more hesitation – bit into the half-formed meal with his front teeth, leaving a sizable hole within the doughy center. “Sure feels like I did.”

Angela stole his chicken and stuck it between her bread slices. Jack opened his mouth wide before biting into the sandwich again. He wiped his face, panted a little. “I had to walk from Judy’s parent’s place all the way back to Bunnyburrow Mainstreet.”

“Why?”

“Her dad drove us up to their farm, and I totally forgot about the patrol car.” He took another bite of his sandwich. “Left it in town.”

She watched him continue to gnaw at the bread, and what a fast gnawer he was. Her Dad always used to say she ‘ate like a rabbit’ whenever she took too long to finish dinner, but, watching a rabbit eat now, and mind you- she was really watching him, she thought it was quite silly to suggest that a rabbit could be anything other than a fast gnawer.

“So you walked all the way back…”

“Yup, and I’ve been on the road since then.”

Something needled Angela in her throat just then, the same something that had been needling her mind since she went with the rabbit to that bar the other night. Her tongue felt tongue when it hadn’t before. She felt the urge to say the something, she repressed it, she failed, she-

“I can’t imagine you uh… came all the way here just to see me?” _Shit, consider her cool officially lost._

He choked a little. Must have been eating too fast. Maybe rabbits _are_ supposed to be slow eaters. Maybe this one’s broken.

“I…” he swallowed, “No- that would be, like, really weird.” He looked down at his paws, flat against the table, drummed a little. “I’m here because I need a favor.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not really interested in aiding in anymore of this bunny cop business. I helped you before because you had Nick with you and-“

“No, no. No bunny cop stuff. I just need you to fix a thing.”

Neither said anything. Not until Angela opened her mouth tentatively.

“What kind of thing?” she asked.

“A broken… kind of thing?” The buck looked away now.

“Oh, well, you know- I’m a mechanic. It’s my job to fix broken kinds of things and stuff,” said Angela, coughing in an unusually polite manner.  

He looked at her again. His ears rose to attention. An eyebrow rose too. “You mean you’ll help me?”

She coughed again. Really hope I’m not getting sick, she thought, it’s awfully easy to catch a bug this time of year. “Yeah, it’s whatever, dude.” She rubbed her arm. “Can I maybe get a little more info on this thing though?”

“Oh, uh, right. It’s a truck engine. Pretty old. Totally kicked the bucket on Judy’s dad. Yeah.”

“And this was somehow urgent enough to warrant you driving all the way back out here?”

“We uh… really need that engine fixed.”

Jack was sweating a little. As he watched her watch him, she watched him wiggle his brow in an attempt to shimmy off the sweat. His ears still stood alert.

“We need to go all the way down to Bunnyburrow, then?”

“Y-yes... I mean, if that’s alright with you.”

She nodded, decided to think on it for a moment. Angela really didn’t fancy the idea of hanging out with a bunch of rabbits for a couple of days. From what she was told about rabbits, they live in tiny burrows packed full of fluff. And they smell weird. And they’re pretty stupid, especially the burrow bunnies. Geez, if a city-slicker like Jack can be as stupid as he is, what must bunny bumpkins be like?

She was going to find out.

“Yeah, I’ll go back with you.”

She watched Jack, not saying a word. He gave an awkward nod, sort of slumped back in his chair as if half of him had just passed out from the exhaustion of the situation. He mumbled something along the lines of ‘that’s good’ and closed his eyes. Wiped his brow.

His stomach growled.

“Are you still hungry, or something?” said Angela.

He used his elbows to push himself back up to a more respectable position. “I mean, maybe a little-“

“-Wanna order a pizza?”

“Oh, that’s fine. We don’t have to-“

“Maybe bring out the bourbon?”

It’s funny, the effect alcohol can have on this rabbit. She watched the muscles around his lips twitch in an effort to say no, but nothing came out. He pouted. Looked as though he was deep in thought.

“Ok,” he said.

…

They’d been drinking for a while.

“You’ve got something right there…”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, tomato sauce on your chin.”

Jack rubbed a paw against his entire lower jaw as if he was cleaning a foggy windshield.

“Did I-“

“No, it’s right there.” Angela pointed at his chin again.

He ran his jacket sleeve across his face.

“Gross. And really ineffective.”

“It’s still there!?”

Angela sat up, leaned over the table, her finger pointing again.

“It’s right… here…” The finger curled as if she was going to scoop the sauce off, but she froze. He watched her, his mouth hanging open very slightly. “I’m not getting it for you,” she said, sitting back again, “just trying to show you where it- uh… where it is.”

“Right, right, yeah, thanks. That would be really awkward.”

“Right.”

“Like, you’re not my mom or anything.”

“Right.”

The dollop of sauce still stuck to his chin. It was liable to stain his fur if he didn’t do anything about it.

“Jack?”

He looked at her.

“Where’s your Mom, anyway?”

Jack crinkled his brow, put his pizza slice down. “Why?”

“Well, it’s just-“ Angela felt uncharacteristically lost for words again. Jack poured himself another glass of bourbon, nodded at the bottle as if to ask her if she wanted more. She nodded back before continuing. “It’s just that you already know so much about me. I’d kind of like to get to know you better if you’re gonna keep forcing yourself into my life.”

He took a sip. “Ok, first of all, I’m totally not forcing myself into your life.”

“You’ve been texting me at-“

“And second,” he smiled at her, “I only know what I’ve read in files.”

“Where’s the ‘Jack Savage’ file, then?”

The buck wrinkled his nose at her before going back to his bourbon. “Classified section. The section where nosy vixens aren’t permitted to look.”

Angela’s pizza had gone untouched in front of her for a while now. She pushed her glass over to Jack’s side of the table, and he filled it before pushing it back. “I think…” she began again, “that this isn’t a very fair game you’re playing with me, rabbit, and that, in this day and age, some files should be open to the public.”

Jack crossed one knobby knee over the other, laughed at her dismissively. “Yeah? What else do you think?”

“Something happened to your family, just like something happened to mine.”

Jack coughed, wrung his paws awkwardly, looked at the clock on the wall. Eight in the afternoon. He stood. “We’ve gotta get going back to Bunnyburrow if you’re going to fix that truck in time.”

Angela wasn’t about to let him slip away that easy. Weren’t foxes supposed to be the slippery ones?

“Sit down, I can fix an engine in an hour.” She could promise him that. “You said you’ve been running around all day, relax.”

He sat down, unrelaxed. His spine was very straight for a rabbit who, up until now, has had bad posture.

“I don’t know why you’re running from me,” said Angela. “You know I’m just going to ask you the same question when we get in the car.”

“I-“

Angela chuckled at him. Not the cheeky, belligerent chuckle she usually chuckled at him, but a chuckle you might chuckle at a little kid or a particularly cute boy.

“You just don’t see why it matters?” she finished for him.

Dumb rabbit, but he’s sweet, ain’t he?

“No, I don’t. I only know what I know because of my job, and there’s – _hiccup –_ plenty I don’t know about you, but I’m not prying.”

“Is there something you’d _like_ to know about me?”

She could dance if he wanted to.

He stuck his pink tongue out thoughtfully. “… I might be a little curious about some things.”

“Fine, we’ll answer each other’s questions,” said Angela.

He thought about it.

“Ok,” grumbled Jack, though still clearly a little tense.

“Honestly.”

“Ok!” Jack repeated, beginning to sound exasperated.

For a moment, neither of them said anything to the other.

“How old are you?” Jack asked, right as Angela asked him about his age.

“You first,” they said in unison.

They narrowed their eyes at one another.

“Twenty-one.” They spoke together again.

“Are you fucking with me, rabbit?” asked Angela.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

She waited, gave him space to ask his next question. When he didn’t – he might’ve been waiting for her – she spoke.

“What do you do in your free time.”

“Drink,” he said. “Watch musicals.”

“No, you don’t,” she laughed.

“How many times have we gotten drunk together?” he asked.

“I mean the whole musical thing- smells like a lie, man.”

“You told me to be honest.”

“Pssh, fine. You weren’t a theater kid, were you?”

“I never got the chance to join a theater class.”

“That’s mysterious,” said Angela. “What do you mean you ‘never got the chance’? What stopped you?”

“Ahem-“ he coughed. “I do believe it’s _my_ turn to ask a question.”

She shrugged, rolled a paw as if to say he’s free to speak. He rolled his eyes as if to say he didn’t need her permission to speak.

“How do you spend your free time?”

“You mean when I’m not dealing with belligerent bunnies?”

“I’m not the belligerent one- you’re the belligerent one.”

“I didn’t say the belligerent bunnies had anything to do with you; guilty conscience much?”

“Answer the damned question!”  

“I spend it in here.”

“Your back room?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” she said with a bitey laugh, “I’m a bit of a shut-in.”

“What a loser.”

It was Angela’s turn again.

“Where does Ms. Hopps spend most of _her_ time?”

Jack looked at her funny, that soft stare of his bumping hers. She tried to let it slide off her. He didn’t seem to understand if this was a serious question or not. After some time, he spoke.

“What’s this question got to do with me?”

“She’s your partner, I’m wondering if she hangs around you when she’s off-duty.”

“She spends her free time at home.” Jack paused a moment, his next few words were a tad over-labored. “And sometimes at the Savanna Central Cemetery.”

Angela pulled her legs up onto her chair, wrapped her arms around them.

“So, she’s lost someone too, then?”

“Seems to be a running theme around us, doesn’t it?”

Angela sat still, willing herself to warm up. Jack looked around the place, finally took notice of the paintings hanging on her gray walls. His eyes settled on one, and she traced his gaze. Above her cot hung a portrait of what looked to be a hairless fox, its head pear-shaped and a tawny yellow. It clutched at its face as though it was being terrorized by some unseen, off-portrait presence, but its eyes were drawn in a wild, cartoony fashion. One eye pointed in one direction, and the other in another. The fox seemed to be standing on a pier overlooking the Sahara Square beach.  It was painted with oil and crayon.

Jack decided upon his next question.

“What the fuck?” asked Jack, pointing a tiny finger at the painting. His tone of voice suggested he didn’t think this was at all a rude way to phrase a question.

Angela couldn’t blame him. He was kinda drunk, and she reckoned that his wasn’t an unreasonable reaction, to be honest.

“The painting? I collect ‘em.”

“ _Why?”_

Angela played with her toes, tapping each of them individually and absentmindedly as Jack stared the piece. “Why not? I like them.”

“It’s horrifying.”

She sat up, looked at the pear shaped-fox again. “Really? They’re supposed to be funny. That one right there,” and she pointed at the strange fox-screamer, “is a parody of a pretty famous piece. It’s called _The Yelp_.”

“The original?”

“No, the parody.”

“What’s the original called?”

“I forget.”

“Stupid name.”

Jack turned around and studied the other paintings. The lavish way they were framed, Angela was sure, probably confused him. They looked out of place on her concrete walls. She liked the juxtaposition.

Juxtaposition?

Oh, whatever. She wasn’t a goddamned English major.

“This one’s pretty nice, too,” said she with a claw pointed at a canvas on the other side of the room, one of her few unframed works. A mouse dressed in an Imperial garb – she’d describe the garb as French, circa early 1800’s, if she had any grasp of what ‘French’ meant and if she used a dating system that didn’t involve replacing the last two digits of the year with XX for ambiguity’s sake – sat riding the back of a prostrate horse.

“That one’s _really_ funny. It’s called _Napolion at the Saint-Bernard Pass._ ”

“I don’t get it,” said Jack. “That’s a mouse, why does he have the word ‘lion’ in his name. That doesn’t make any sense. And why is he on that horse guy’s back?”

“I guess that’s the funny part.”

“That’s not funny,” said Jack, pouring himself another glass of bourbon.

“He kind of reminds me of you,” said Angela.

Jack froze, stopped pouring so that the drink didn’t overflow. “The horse?”

“No, the mouse!” laughed Angela, who clearly thought she was being funny.

“That’s not funny either,” grumbled Jack, continuing to pour. “Can I get you another glass?”

She slid her glass over to him, he caught it before it slid off the edge. “Do you ever drink with Ms. Hopps?”

Jack shook his head, set the empty bourbon bottle down on the plastic table. It shook under the weight of the bottle. “She doesn’t really drink. When she does it’s-“ he hiccupped, “- it’s only ever a single glass of wine.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Special occasions, then?”

Jack looked into his honeyed glass. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Before she goes to visit the cemetery, then, hmm?”

“Yeah, guess so.” Still he spoke in a whisper and still he looked into the glass.

“Is that what happened to your mom?”

“Cemetery?” asked Jack.

“Mhm…”

His eyebrow’s arched. He sat up, opened his mouth, looked like he was one inhale away from telling her off for bringing the subject up again. But then he fell back, like a tired old man.

“Yes.”

Jack drew his own legs up his own chest. They must have looked silly to an outsider walking into that back room, half-drunk and crowded around a little plastic table, pizza sauce staining their paws, legs up to their chests.

“And my Pa,” he continued.

“What happened?”

“I killed them.”

Angela held her breath.

“Do you have another question for me?” she asked.

“No,” whispered Jack.

“Can I ask you mine, then?”

Jack looked a little squeamish, a little confused. Maybe it was the alcohol making him sick. Maybe it was the subject matter.

“Yeah…” said Jack.

“Why do you think you killed your parents?”

“Because I didn’t do something I should have done.”

“And your parents died because of it?”

“Yes, they died because of my failure to act.”

He leaned back in the plastic chair, remembered how tired he was.

“So you blame yourself for their deaths?”

“It wasn’t just them,” said Jack.

“Another rabbit died?”

Jack leaned back against his chair, too far back, the chair backing snapped and he fell, crashing to the concrete floor below. His head thumped dully against the concrete. Not too hard, but enough to rattle his mind a little. Angela climbed off her stool and picked him up, cradled him like a baby – or maybe like a bride – and laid him out on her cot. She sat beside him and watched as he tried to sit up, finally managing it. He absentmindedly pulled her covers closer to himself. He made a sort of nest.

He took fistfuls of the blanket as he tried to remember what he had meant to say.

“I killed a fox, same day I killed my Mama and Pa.”

Her lips parted, but she didn’t say anything. She just watched him.

“Did you know that I was born in the burrows south of Bunnyburrow?”

She shook her head.

“Of course you didn’t, I don’t know why I asked. I don’t ever tell anybody about this kind of thing. They’re just east of Yoknapatawpha County. Of course, you wouldn’t know anything about that county either. It’s all too deep south. Nobody ever goes that far down. Certainly not anyone from Zootopia. And none of us ever go this far up.” He hiccupped, rubbed his head. “It’s called Bervderickburrow, and it’s a hell hole.

“My siblings and I were raised by two very sick rabbits on a very small farm. There wasn’t much to do, especially when you’re six years old and surrounded by nothing but dirt. I used to walk through the fields all day. Stayed out of the mud like my mom asked me to. They always thought we were gonna catch something from that mud. I think they were just afraid we were as frail as they were.

“I was bored. All my siblings were bored. I have a sister I never tell anyone about, because I think she’s dead too, and she was the most bored of us all, ya know? Little Ann. They named her after my mom. She was the second oldest, born right after my oldest older sister and years before me and my twins. She got herself a boyfriend.” Jack shifted around so that he could sit with crisscrossed legs. “But she couldn’t tell nobody about him. Because he was a fox, and everyone in Bervderickburrow was very speciest.

“I only found out about their relationship when I heard them arguing one night in her room. He wasn’t supposed to be there – no, he definitely wasn’t, but he snuck in. How a big red fox like him could get inside our tiny burrow without nobody noticing is still a mystery to me.” He shrugged. “I used to think it was because he was a fox, and foxes are sly and shifty, but that would make me speciest too, wouldn’t it? I mean, you’re not very sly.” Angela didn’t say anything. She didn’t think he was joking either.

“He wasn’t very sly either, I guess. He kept telling her how he loved her and she kept telling him that they couldn’t keep doing this. She didn’t want a relationship with a boy she had to hide. I didn’t understand much of any of this at the time, mind you. She said that he needed to leave her alone. Go back to his corner of the burrow, where the foxes live. She said that, if he didn’t go away, she was going to report him, tell everyone he tried to kidnap her.”

Jack sniffled, placed his paw to his face. He chewed at his fingers, drunk.

“He didn’t leave, and I didn’t tell anyone what happened. I went to bed. The town officials had him by the scruff of his neck a few days later. They said he tried to kidnap her, and I knew that wasn’t true, but I didn’t say anything. Guess I was too scared. I was too confused.”

~~~

It was night, and the horrible orange light that spilled from the overhead lanterns gave the town square an infernal aura. Little Jack Savage, no older than six, stood terrified in a crowd of nearly one thousand rabbits. They frothed and they bobbed up and down, washing into the center of the town. They clamored over one another as waves wash over sea water, leaving a thunderous gray foam, bubbling over itself. They were desperate for a glimpse of the fox.

It was a picture of what happened when things were _too_ warm. When summer heat got into rabbit heads and baked their brains. When it isn’t the loving stroke of the fire’s heat that moves their paws and feet, but hellfire.

Tiny Jack pushed through the rabbits like a diver parting water before springing into the sea. But this sea was scalding hot. Jack wheezed and coughed and it felt like some large paw was squeezing at his lungs. If only he could just get to that tree over there, there in the distance.

The roaring of the crowd, bouncing up and down, frightened him. He just barely avoided being crushed by an older rabbit.

_What is going on,_ he thought to himself, _I don’t know what’s going on!_

He made it to the tree without realizing it, and he clung to it. He dug his nails into its bark and climbed, because the water in the surrounding sea had drained now, and lava took its place. The cops had dragged Ann’s fox out into the plaza. The red creature stood chained to the clock tower. Jack made it to the top of the tree just as the Sherriff started speaking.

“For the kidnapping of one of our own-“ said the town Sherriff.

_But he didn’t kidnap her, he-_

“- we sentence you to death.”

The fox’s red head hung limp, tilted awkwardly to the side, like a misused marionette. Why didn’t he fight? Why didn’t he explain the misunderstanding? Why didn’t _Jack_ explain? He thought about it, but his legs were jelly now. His mouth was sewn shut, like his sister’s doll’s mouth. Just then, as if through ticker tape lined through the air and into his ears, the terrible meaning of it all reached Jack. The rabbits were crashing over the fox now. They trampled him now. The fox wasn’t screaming. Now he couldn’t scream. Now Jack was sliding down the tamarack tree.  There were splinters in his puffy red paws and down his tender thighs now- he had to tell somebody, he had to stop this right now.  

.

.

.

In the town square, there’s nothing but a puddle now.

~~~

Now Jack was crying.

“I told ‘em when we got home. I had to know why Ann did it.” He shook his head as if a horrible thought or memory just struck him. “Ann left the burrows that night, and we never saw her again.”

The room was quiet. Jack’s voice was quieter. It was wet.

“And then, well, Mama-“

His voice cracked. His nose started running.

“Mama and Pa _…_ after hearing all that… they _went_ in the night. Claribelle found them the next morning.” The words were choked out between sobs, he wiped his nose. “Which was _fine,_ because they were _hurting.”_

He let out a whine, grabbed at his ears. He shook his head.

Angela’s ears flattened against the back of her head. She blinked hard. Looked away from him for a moment and then looked back.

“But I didn’t understand any of it at the time.”

He had his arms wrapped around his own neck now. He rocked gently in place. The cot shook in the same way he did, gently at first- a build up to a rumbling. When he trembled, the cot trembled. Maybe a ghost wave was washing over him. His trembling would subside before building up again.

“I just knew that I did something _wrong.”_  

He coughed the words out. His eyes were red. His white face turned gray with drippy tears

“I just- I ran away! I just couldn’t stand it, Angela!”

He whimpered. Closed his eyes, shook his head like he was trying to empty it of all thoughts. The look on his face told the vixen it didn’t work.

His arms shook uncontrollably as he wiped at his nose. His fingers curled into a gnarled position, miming the awful way a dead insect’s limbs will tighten into rigid positions when heat exposed.

“And I tried to forget it all.”

He looked at her, saw her stolid, heart shaped face. He blinked his eyes shut, whimpered violently again. His body shook as though he was coughing.

“And I just can’t.”

He wrenched his arms away from his neck and covered his face with them.

“So _every time-“_

His sobs became loathsome, a briny hate bubbling up in him.

“- _every_ time I look Nick in the eyes, _I see him._ I _remember_ it all over again.”

He choked. Looked ready to burst, or scream.

He looked up at her, and she saw a broken rabbit. No, a broken mammal. He reached his arms out as if to touch her, but didn’t.

“ _I’m so fucking sorry_.”

You’d think the rabbit had just returned from a season in hell, the way that he looked at her then.

She moved slowly at first.

She didn’t want to scare him.

She shifted, sat on her legs so that she looked a little taller. Straightened her back out into that perfect posture she always had. He didn’t notice it at first, when her arms slowly made their way over to him, and when he did, and he looked her in the eye, frightened; she didn’t stop.

She wrapped those arms around his small, heaving body, and she pulled him closer to herself. Some of her bedsheets dragged along with him.

Closer and closer.

And closer.

Until he sat in her lap. He looked up at her with sunken, red eyes. His mouth hung slack-jawed. His pink nose sniffled and wiggled. She looked down at him, the tip of her nose touching his forehead.

He had to look straight up to see her face. She pinched his chin with a gentleness she’d never shown him before. Thinking on it, she couldn’t remember a time when she showed this sort of gentleness to anyone. She tilted his head even further, craning his neck.

And she lowered her own muzzle until it met his, and then they were kissing.

She pulled him even closer to herself, till there was no room between the two of them. He pressed all of himself onto her and, with her free paw, she held the back of his head in place so that she could smother his face in her kisses. So many kisses, he couldn’t keep up.

So he melted in her arms. He was a rabbit floating in still waters. He couldn’t speak, she wouldn’t let him.

Silence was absolute in that back room. Not a sound was made, not even as Angela pulled away to kiss the other parts of the buck’s face. Her face fur smothered him at all times, he hardly had the chance to breathe.

Her paw traveled down to his tail. Her long tongue traveled past his face, down his neck. She planted sweet-mouthed kisses on any part of him with exposed fur, and when she ran out of exposed parts, she popped the first button to his suit jacket.

His breath hitched, but he didn’t say anything. She tugged the jacket off him, still kissing him slowly. One paw squeezed his tail, the other unbuttoned his shirt.

His paws rested on her hips.

She took one, pressed it against her chest.

 

He unbuttoned her overalls. She tugged his shirt off.

He paused.

“Why?” he said.

“Why anything?” she said.

…

There was some shifting.

And slow grinding.

And gentle whining through bunny lips when they weren’t pressed against fox lips.

And soft mewls.

And Jack died a thousand times. And then he fell asleep against her.

...

Tonight, the burrows seemed so very far away.

And not just Bunnyburrow.

…

Jack stirred. Angela watched as his left eye, partially obscured by her chest fur, opened. He shivered.

“You ok?” she whispered.

“I just know what to do,” he whispered back.

“About what?”

“About Nick.”

“Why not just let him go?”

“I can’t, he killed somebody.”

“Do you really think he did it?”

Jack burrowed himself further into the vixen’s chest. She didn’t fight it, wasn’t ever going to fight it. She wanted him to know as much.

“I do, I do think he did it,” said Jack.

“And that’s going to stop you letting him go?”

“I can’t just release him, Angie-“ He froze. She knew some gear was turning inside his rattled rabbit brain, trying to decide whether or not it was ok to start using pet names. She didn’t correct him, so he must have reckoned it was alright. “It would be immoral for me to let him go.”

She adjusted, brought him even closer somehow. She chuckled again, the chuckle you do when you’re talking to a cute boy. “What’s it matter if it’s moral or not?”

Jack breathed in, caught the scent of his lover’s motor oil scent again. He closed his left eye. You wouldn’t have been able to tell he was awake had you not heard him talking. He buried his face fully into her chest.

“Nobody’s morally justified in anything nowadays, Bunbun,” said Angela.

“You really are a Negative Nancy, you know that?” came a muffled whisper from her chest.

She stroked his ears so that they laid flat against his head and back.

“Let’s just get some sleep for tonight,” she said. “We’ve got a long drive tomorrow. Can’t you just let me sleep for once?”

No response.

“Jack?”

From the rabbit’s mouth came a sickly-sweet sigh, a melodious sound that, had a gentle rain come through the roof of that building and washed away all of Angela’s thoughts, she could never have forgotten in all the time she had left to play out her life- a snore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayyy, please don’t forget to drop me a comment if you’ve got the time. Keeps me focused on this, hehe.


	12. A Calm Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you remember the smell in the air before the storm reached your house? The eerie quietude before the air split itself with screeching gales? The look of a fog-white sky through your kitchen window before the black clouds wend their way in from all directions? I don’t. I think it’s hard to remember the calm once the calamity sets in.

Warm air caressed Jack’s face. Angela’s heater must have been set to turn on automatically in the morning.

_Angela_. Her paws were still clasped around his white belly. He gave his eyes a second to adjust to the darkness of the concrete cube room. The ghostly image of that plastic table stood in front of him. The bourbon bottle was still empty. The pizza was still half eaten. He rubbed against the vixen, turned his head up so that he could bury his face into her blond chin.

Then, delicately, he lifted her fingers off him one at a time and laid her paws against the cot mattress. He winced as he slid the blanket off them- partly because he was afraid it would wake her and partly because he was afraid the chill of the room would force him back under the covers, back into her arms. But the room wasn’t cold anymore. The heater worked fast.

Or, maybe, the room was cold last night because this used to be a place where nothing happened. Tools might change their resting spots from day to day, and car parts might be fiddled with, but progress wasn’t made here. Things were changed last night, as if through some bizarre magic the two of them had unknowingly cast. Last night, she filled a hollow space in him, and he filled one in her. Yes, maybe it was just the simple of act of doing something.

Or maybe it was the heater.

He crawled off the cot.

Part of him still doubted the concrete floor. It sure _looked_ cold, possessing the same gray color of those iron burrow skies he’d see over head back when he was little, right before a thunder storm hit. Touching it, however, revealed that it was in fact very warm; just not as warm as the fox blanket he’d been wrapped up in a second ago. He looked around the floor for his things. Where again had he thrown them last night? Pah, that’s the only downside to drinking. Not being able to find your clothes the next morning.

He remembered what he did after tossing the clothes, though. That wasn’t always an assured thing.

He looked at the cot for his boxers- maybe he’d left them there. Maybe they were tangled in her sheets, just as he had been. No. Angela was the only thing tangled in those sheets, but that was even better than finding a pair of boxers. She’d be waking up soon. Her toes stuck out from under the covers and twitched listlessly. Her ear rested flat against her head. She looked breathtaking to him there; the overgrown, bright blonde fur that sparkled on her head and ran down her neck to cover the rest of her; the black, finely trimmed claws that could easily carve into him, but instead ran down his back and across his bare butt; the feeling’s that wriggled for his attention down at the bottom of his stomach when he watched her- she must’ve fallen from the sky.

Jack turned around. His head hurt a little, enough to make his vision blurry. He searched the floor at his feet for his clothes again. His jacket had been tossed across the room. A hum came from behind him.

He glanced back. She was awake, casually taking in his body, like a distantly curious tourist, here to see a foreign attraction. He looked away, felt her ogle the black stripes that lined his back, felt her trace circles around his white, plush rump.

“You’re staring.”

“I know.”

And she stared as he tugged his boxers on, then his slacks. She stared as his lithe torso swung this way and that – like a belly dancer – when he tugged his dress shirt over his head. Then she sighed like a vixen who’d just been woken up from the first good dream she’d had in a while. He watched her get up. She rose gracefully, effortlessly, as though the warm air in the room had lifted her body for her. He couldn’t get the first button on his suit jacket buttoned. The heavy blanket clung to her shoulders, exposing the yellow tuft of fur sticking out from her chest.

He tossed her overalls onto the cot; they draped themselves across her snout.

…

“A trial down at Outback Island, huh?”

Angela had her feet-paws up on the dashboard of the police cruiser. She curled and warmed them in the glassy ray of sunlight coming through the front window.

“Yeah. It’s… awful,” said Jack.

“No kidding,” said Angela, grumbling. “How’s Miss Hopps taking it?”

“Horribly. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know what to do anymore. She thinks she does, but she doesn’t.”

“Well, she never did strike me as the most well-adjusted rabbit.”

“I mean, who can be well-adjusted after everything she’s been through? I told you what happened to her-“

“I know… but it isn’t healthy, visiting a cemetery that often.” She used one foot to adjust the sun visor on her side of the car. “You’ve gotta let go at some point. Can’t save ‘em all.”

“She still spends half her paycheck on flowers.” Jack took a right turn. Angela eyed a sign as it passed above them.

_Bunnyburrow: 25 miles_

“Really though,” continued Jack, eye’s set on the road, “I don’t think we can call it. Who knows what’s going on in her head?”

“Right…” she said, her face scrunched up. A thought eluded her just then, like a beady black fly barely out of the reach of a frog’s lunging tongue. No, no- not a frog. In this world, frogs didn’t exist, only birds and bugs and mammals.

“No, you’re right,” Angela said again, like a mammal – as for what kind, take your pick – who’s paw just narrowly missed plucking a pesky fly out of the air, “she must have a lot to think about. Probably has even more on her mind after these last few days.” She rubbed her jaw sleepily.

A sheep rested underneath a decaying billboard, one that advertised headache medication. She was stuffing a plastic pipe with gauze. The sheep looked towards the patrol car with half-lidded eyes, as if she were in a hazy trance. Jack pressed his foot down on the gas, went a little bit quicker.

“Bunnyburrow’s not too far now,” he said, easing up on the gas again, “you excited?”

Angela pulled her feet off the dash. They were warm now. She laughed, rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m thrilled about it.”

“Come now, honey,” said Jack, a tad mocking as he placed a tiny paw on the vixen’s knee, “are we having second thoughts about helping out?”

She didn’t touch his paw. “Of course not, _darling,_ ” she said, placing her own, large paw on his lap, squeezing a little too hard, way too hard, “I just find the idea of hanging around a bunch of bunnies to be a little… grating.”

She slackened her grip so that he could make the turn onto a long and narrow dirt road, he let out an unsteady breath, a little chuckle, and made it. Jack turned to the vixen, a wry smile growing on his face.

“You’re not afraid of rabbits, are you?” asked Jack. “Because, if you are, I have a confession to make.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s just that… we’re going to be seeing a _lot_ of rabbits soon.”

Jack slid a paw into hers, she gave it a squeeze. He much preferred that kind of squeeze.

“Just keep an open mind, for me,” he said. She rolled her eyes at him. “And, if they swarm and attack you, I’ll be there to fend them off.”

She squeezed his paw again.

…

It was noon when Joey dragged Nick to his room, eager to show the fox the entire burrow and how it had changed since he went away. They had no time for such things yesterday because Jack was out of town and Nick had taken it upon himself to work in the fields for the both of them. The harvest season had just begun, after all. Luckily, Stu called off farm work today on account of preparations for Charlie’s trial. The little one shared the room with three of his siblings, dividing the circular hollow into four parts.

Joey bounced to his side of the room.

“This is my room,” said Joey, “And this is Claire.”

A doe sat on her bed in her corner of the room. She waved at him with a small smile on her tiny lips.

“And this is Charlie.”

A round buck lay face down on his own bed.

Nick recognized Charlie, by name and by the thing around his neck.

“We can… uh… come back later if you’d like,” said Nick. “I don’t want to wake the little guy up.”

“Charlie’s not asleep,” said Claire.

Joey retreated to his corner of the four-sliced circle. His bed sheets were blue, police blue, and rough looking. Nick couldn’t help but wonder how a soft thing like Joey, so innocent, so fluffy, could sleep on such a bed. Posters wrapped around his side of the room, also blue, and with various Z.P.D slogans across their scrawling faces. One hung directly over his pillow.

_Here to Serve and Protect._

In Charlie’s corner, his blankets formed a second hollow around him. A chalk board rested against a well-read stack of books atop his dresser, a calendar drawn on it in childish scribbles. The date was wrong, it read a time from last year. A chalk smear began at the top of the calendar and stopped abruptly in the middle of the board, as if the mammal erasing it had given up in the middle of the act.

Another chalkboard sat on the floor, braced against his bed. This one was coated in facts and figures, mathematics. It lay slanted and, if they could, the numerals contained in it would have surely slid off and joined the rest of the mess on his floor by now. Charlie’s clothes – shirts, pants, and PJs – littered his side of the room.

Nick looked at Charlie again. The boy still hadn’t moved.

The sibling who wasn’t there, Edmund, left his side a mess. The sheets were bunched at the foot of the bed, as if he’d thrown them off him in a fright this morning. Superhero dolls – action figures – cluttered his floor. Many a toe must have been stubbed getting in and out of bed. His clothes made one neat pile- that was about as organized as this rabbit got. Bonnie probably doesn’t have the time to check every kit’s room to hang up their clothes.

The little doe, Claire, sat on her bed, watching Nick with quiet fascination. Her sheets were a washed out black, and on her bedside table sat a model race car. Beside it sat a stack of photographs- no, _drawings_. Nick walked over to them. She said nothing, only smiled like she was keeping a secret from him- one he’d never be able to understand.

“Mind if I take a look?” asked Nick.

Still she said nothing, still she only smiled.

He lifted the stack of drawings. They were a good bit weightier than he expected them to be. In the first one, meticulously sketched in coal, an oryx sat waiting on a bench in front of the Bunnyburrow train station, absorbed in a newspaper. But his face sloped drastically down and in the most unnatural way, as if he was just starting to melt. The newspaper in his hooves – the other side of it, the side visible to the viewer – had no words on it, and no scribbles used to represent words. It had columns for articles and portrait spaces for photographs, but they were empty. Nick told himself that she probably couldn’t think of anything to put in them.

The next picture was an inked drawing of a rabbit family standing outside a tiny burrow home; but were they really rabbits? That claim was… dubious. Their eyes were large, even larger than rabbit eyes are supposed to be, and they stuck too far out of their heads. If the picture were a moving one, the eyes would surely pop out fully and slip to the ground with a wet squish, flopping and writhing like fish. The rabbit’s – rabbits? – necks were wrinkled into several folds. The father, fat like Stu, had the most wrinkly neck. Little patches of fur were sectioned off on the bunnies in darker ink, giving the impression of pock marks. These rabbits had an Innsmouth look.

Nick – slowly, and a little afraid of what he’d see – looked up from the stack of pictures. The doe still sat in front of him.

“These are _your_ drawings, right?” he asked. When she nodded, part of him wanted to ask what in the world inspired her to make these, but he couldn’t tip the words off his tongue.

“I draw what I see,” said Claire, as if she knew what he wanted to ask. Still she smiled.

_Ok, enough of that._

Nick smiled back and raised his eyebrows, nodding, and praying she didn’t see his discomfort. He set the stack of pictures down. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t like whatever it was he’d find next.

Charlie turned over then. Nick and the other two rabbit siblings glanced over at him, holding their breath. Surely they’d been talking loud enough for him to hear them, but he looked up at Nick like he had only just noticed him, narrowing his eyes at the fox. Then he pushed himself up with his arms, squinting harder, wanting a better look. Claire and Joey may as well have not been there.

He saw the collar.

It was like a reunion between two brother’s who’d been without one another for years. He watched Nick with a mixture of adoration and wonder.

“Hi,” said Nick in a gentle whisper, wiggling his fingers in subtle salutation.

“Heh-“ the rabbit cleared his throat, looked a little surprised at the sound of his own voice. “Hello?”

The buck’s eyes bobbed up and down, from collar to fox eyes.

“I’ve got a collar, too,” said Nick, answering the unspoken question.

“Y-yes…” said Charlie. He took his time sitting up properly, straining to cross his legs. But he didn’t make a noise. Didn’t moan or grunt. He was like an old man who’d been suffering for a long time now, and he didn’t seem to care anymore. He scooched over to one side of the bed.

“Can you sit with me?” he said.

Nick smiled with his whole muzzle. He sat down on the bed beside Charlie. Claire and Joey watched, fixated. Charlie’s eyes widened very slightly now that he was inches away from the fox’s collar, he thumbed over his own absentmindedly.

“How long have you had that thing?” asked Charlie.

“I actually just got it,” said Nick.

“No way…”

“Way.” Nick smiled again, chuckled through his nose. “And it really sucks. Burns. Itches a whole lot.”

Something changed in Charlie then. If he had been an old man before, he was a hardened warrior now. He stuck out his chest a little. Placed a paw on Nick’s knee.

“You get used to it,” he said, nodding in understanding. “I’ve had mine for, like, a year now.” His voice was deep for a little guy. He talked like he had food in his mouth.

“Phew…” said Nick, breathing out. “That’s good to hear, cause it’s pretty bad right now.”

Charlie smiled his most reassuring smile. Then he looked down at his feet. “You’re Judy’s old partner, huh?”

“Yes,” said Nick.

“So you know how all this prison stuff works, huh?”

All too well.

“I do,” said Nick.

“I’m getting the chair, aren’t I?”

Nick was shocked.

All this time he hadn’t considered the idea of his own execution as particularly frightening, he was resigned to the idea, but hearing the same resignation in the voice of a little rabbit – a rabbit who’d done nothing wrong – he felt like he was looking into a fun house mirror, and he was the warped image.

“No…” Nick said, a little hesitant, a little unsure, “You’re going to be fine.”

“Do you really think so, Mr. Fox?

“I do, yeah, of course I do.”

Charlie smiled the same smile he used to see on the door to door salesman’s face back when he was little. Back about a year ago. “Ok,” he said through the smile. He seemed to be turning a thought over in his mind. It reached his tongue, and he whisked it around in his mouth before setting it free.

“What should I call you, Mr. Fox? I didn’t really pay attention whenever anybody said your name.”

Nick, with his palms placed flat against the bed, tried his hardest to smile. “Nick.”

“Ok, Mr. Nick.”

It wasn’t until then that Nick finally noticed Judy. Her head was through the doorway; she’d been listening to their conversation. She seemed puzzled, not because of what she’d seen, but because of what she thought about what she’d seen. Nick met her gaze. She shook her head, cleared it.

 “Jack’s back.”

…

The patrol car eclipsed a white sun as it came over the hill. Nick and Judy stepped out onto the porch to find Stu standing beside his truck, watching Jack approach the farm. The farmer had a grim way about him now. His fur stood up at odd angles and his face looked like a recently awoken sleep-walker’s. He had grown up to look like his son this past week. 

Dirt sprayed like disturbed sea foam on either side of the police cruiser. Tires spun slower and slower until they reached a full stop. Jack’s door unlatched slightly at first, only to drift closed again, then it swung open more forcefully, Jack stumbling out from behind it, as if he had pushed it with his entire body. He gave Nick a friendly glance and Judy a polite bow before turning to Stu.

“Cavalry’s here,” he said to the solemn faces, smiling, but the faces remained solemn. He frowned, caught himself, tried to smile again. He raised a finger as if asking for a second before sliding across the hood of the car so as to open the passenger side door, sputtering, “I- uh, I brought somebody who’s going to have your truck purring like a newborn kit fixed in no time, Mr. Hopps, honest, she’s magical. Just you wait-“

The car door sang a satisfying pop as it opened wide, and out from behind it an overall’d leg stepped. Angela climbed down onto the dusty ground and looked around herself. She saw Nick and Judy – Nick waved politely – and she saw Stu. She looked behind her, over her shoulder, and saw the blue winter sky. It looked sharper when she wasn’t looking at it from behind a patrol car window.

“Angela, meet Stu,” said Jack.

She turned to find the rabbit, Stu, walking towards her, crinkled hat in one paw and the other paw extended like a beggar’s.

“Heya-“ she bit her tongue, “I mean... Hello, Stu.” She took the paw, still a little uncertain as to whether or not it was meant for her and not somebody behind her.

Stu threw his face into his smile, squinted his eyes. He looked sincere. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Angela,” he said. “Just wish it was under better conditions, is all.”

“Uh, me too, sir.” She tried to tug her paw away, but his grip was tight and cool like a corpse’s. He caught her grimace and released it before looking down at his feet, apologetic.

“So…” said Jack.

“It’s good to see you again, Ms. Skyes,” said Judy. It was her turn to take the vixen’s paw.

“Likewise, Hopps,” said Angela.

Nick leaned back on his feet pads, pressing two fingers to his forehead before flicking them with in one crisp motion, a half-hearted salute in her direction. She smiled briefly before turning her attention to the porch and its door. There were rabbits in there, undoubtedly. A lot of rabbits.

Jack must have noticed her increasing uneasiness because he was close by her side again by the time she looked back at Stu.

“So, where’s the truck, anyways,” said Jack.

“It’s still off by the silo. Come inside, I’ll get us some water and we can go out the back.”

It was then that Angela’s suspicion that ‘there were a lot of rabbits in there’ proved to be true. The door opened slowly, and out came a fluffle of bunnies, curious about this new fox in the driveway. Their mother followed close behind.

“Hey, we’re busy here-“ said Stu, but the three rabbit boys – Joey, Emmet, and Bill, as she’d soon be informed – hopped down the steps anyways. The mother rabbit stood on the porch and rested her arms on the railing, watching them all.

“You didn’t tell us there was going to be _another_ fox, Pa,” said Joey.

“Gee, two city foxes in one week, can you believe it?” whispered Emmett to Bill, elbowing his brother in the side.

Angela tightened her paws into shaky fists. Jack noticed. Evidently, Stu noticed it too.

“You ok, Angela?” he asked.

She snapped out of her rigid stance almost immediately. “Huh?” she looked like a mammal who’d just been startled out of a day dream. “Yeah, I’m fine...”

Everyone still stared at her.

“Seriously, I’m good.” She ran her paws across the top of her head, flattening her ears for a second before letting them flutter back to full-mast. She sniffled. “I just get a little overwhelmed when there’s a crowd; I’m not really the social type.” She forced out a chuckle and looked down at Jack, who nodded in encouragement.

What she said wasn’t entirely untrue, she didn’t like large groups. She liked them even less when everyone in said large groups gawks at her, and less still when that group was comprised of bunny rabbits. Their large eyes were unsettling.

“Oh, you should have said something. Last thing I’d want to do is make you uncomfortable, miss,” said Stu. Bonnie turned away and walked back inside the burrow. “Bill, Joey, Emmet, fetch us the water pitcher and something to set it on. Then I want you boys out of here.”

Angela looked at the rabbit brothers, expecting to find them offended. But they weren’t, they smiled apologetically, a little sheepishly, in fact. Bill gave a thumbs-up. “Sorry about that Miss, we’ll get out of your fur, then.”

She almost felt sorry, almost. Part of her still didn’t trust the rabbits. Part of her was convinced that they were hiding something behind those smiles. She glanced at Nick. He seemed to trust them just fine.

The group turned to start heading inside, into the lion’s den- no, the rabbit’s den. She gave Nick a look over as she passed by him. “Nice overalls, by the way” she said, tugging at the straps on her own pair.

…

They sipped their waters. The ice-filled pitcher sat on an old collapsible table next to the truck. Nick frequently visited it as he and Judy watched the other three mammals work on the engine. Stu kept his head under the shadow of the hood and panted. Jack handed Angela her tools as she asked for them with a knight’s diligence.

Judy nudged Nick in the side as they watched the trio. He looked down at her, raised an eyebrow.

“Have you had the chance to sniff Jack yet?”

Of all the things he’d expected to hear from her, this was not one of them. His drink must’ve gone down his windpipe.

“Nuh- _No_.” He sputtered and coughed. “No, why would I- that’s not really something I-“

“Calm down.” She smiled an itchy smile, as if she knew something he didn’t. “I’m not accusing you of anything.”

“Good,” he coughed again. “because I _don’t_ sniff rabbits. Like, not regularly enough for the question you just asked to be a reasonable question to ask me.”

She laughed.

_Wait._

Weird. It was weird to hear her laugh.  A weak laugh, but it was a laugh. It sounded like the laughs she used to laugh were still hidden somewhere inside of that laugh, not yet dead- just forgotten.

“I’m just saying,” she said, “You should go and sniff him when you can.”

He looked down at her, unbelieving. Now he was curious. He walked over to the truck, as nonchalant as possible. Jack glanced at him, he coughed. He looked under the hood of said truck, pretending to be interested in the process of fixing it, and realized that he had no clue what was going on in there. He looked left and then right, aloof. Jack looked up at him, Nick looked away. Nick cleared his throat again, tapped his foot. Jack looked back at the engine, watched Angela’s paws work away at the parts. Nick stole a furtive glance at Jack again, who must have caught him out of the corner of his eye because he looked at Nick again. Nick coughed.

“Are you sick?” asked Jack.

“Hmm?”

Jack looked over his shoulder at Angela and Stu, who ignored the conversation. “Are you sick or something? You keep coughing.”

“Oh…” said Nick. “Oh, yeah. Kinda.”

They stared at one another for a while.

Jack looked away, shook his head, and grumbled. _“Well… feel better then.”_

Nick looked off towards the silo again, pretending to admire its country-styled architecture. Then, when he was sure Jack was absorbed in the work being done to the car, he swooped low towards his white head and sniffed deeply.

Jack turned to him, obviously irritated now. He squinted. _“What’s your problem?”_

“My nose is running,” said Nick, throwing his paws up. “I’ll just uh, stand over there again, then.”

_Holy Jesus Capybara_ he thought to himself as he walked back over to Judy, Jack watching him all the while, _It was as if he’d bathed in that vixen._ He smelled more like Angela than Angela smelled like Angela. He smelled less like Jack and more like something else, something in between the two of them. Something mixed. He smelled funny.

He took his place next to Judy again, a ways away from the truck. “He,” he said in a voice just loud enough for Judy to hear him, “He slept with her.”

Judy’s itchy smile grew again. “I noticed it when Angela went to give me a pawshake. I’m surprised you didn’t smell it right then.”

‘I didn’t think he-“

She laughed first, it was her fault- really. Soon Nick was laughing. So, Nick and Judy were laughing. So it goes. Jack looked over at them, wriggled his nose like a child who wasn’t let in on a joke, and turned back to his work.

“But, Jack? He’- _what_? He’s just a- a… he’s just a _kid.”_ Nick wheezed, trying his hardest to whisper the words. He cupped his forehead with a paw, rubbed his side with the other. He shook his head. “I feel like a mother sniffing out cigarette smoke on her kit. He’s so young- so small! He can’t be mingling with vixens!”

“Looks like we don’t have a say in who he mingles with.” Judy watched as Jack tried to give said vixen three different types of wrenches before she rolled her eyes at him and grabbed her breaker bar. He leaned against the side of the car, watching her work. Stu fanned himself with his hat every so often.

…

Nick watched as Angela stepped aside and Stu climbed up into the truck. With a turn of his key, the engine hummed to life, filling the orange afternoon sky with a nervous, yet forceful, energy. Jack hopped up and down, pumping his fist in the air. He playfully pushed Angela, who nudged him back with a hip-check, almost throwing him off balance. He smiled at her, bright, thankful, and bounced his way over to Nick and Judy. Stu didn’t smile as he sat in the driver’s seat.

“Check it out, huh?” said Jack as he bounced up to Nick and Judy, his dress shirt untucked and wet with sweat. “We’re back in business!”

Judy smiled through pursed lips. She chewed at her cheek. “Guess so.” They turned to watch Stu drive off from the silo and pull onto a nearby dirt path, facing the burrow.

Ah?

_Strange_

Nick just felt a peculiar chill run up and down his spine- like someone was watching them from afar.

Maybe it was god. Maybe god was looking down, chuckling and shaking his maned head at them. Wondering how much longer they’d continue this act- this make-believe schoolyard game where they think they have a chance of coming home tomorrow intact. Finding it funny how time is like a rapid river for them, and how they haven’t got any choice but to float down it, keeping their heads just barely above water, unable to see further down the stream. Finding it extra funny how he can see the whole stream, and how he can see the cataract, the white waterfall at the end of the line, the rabbit child dashed against the rocks.

Or maybe it was the birds. They watch us as much as we watch them, you know.

“It’s late, we best be getting back inside. You can stay here if you’d like, Angela,” said Stu, pulling up closer to them, an arm resting outside his truck’s window.

“I- uh…” She looked as though she’d just had some bad seafood. She must have been counting on getting back home tonight.

“It’s a long way’s back to Zootopia,” said Jack.

“It’s-“

“-the least we can do,” Stu finished for her.

Jack looked up at the vixen.

She looked down at him. She sighed, shook her head. “Well, if you’re offering… Thank you, Stu.”

She stuck out her paw, which he gladly took.

…

Night finally fell and Nick was out back, nursing a cigarette. The air was bitey compared to the warmth of the hearth-lit burrow, but he had to get out if he wanted to smoke.

_Wait._

Strange, he thought, it almost looked like a mammal was off atop that hill, watching him. It must have been nothing, though. It must have been. He took another drag, shivered slightly, ran his teeth over each other.

But the figure was there again. Was his mind playing tricks on him? He had to check it out, just to be safe. Maybe it was one of the rabbit kits, out past their bed time. The path from the silo would take him up that hill. He scratched at his chin, a little nervous. He went towards it.

When he reached the top of the hill, the figure stood staring up at him from the bottom. He couldn’t make out the face of that vague silhouette, but he didn’t have to. He followed the path down, now hidden from the sight of any bunnies in the Hopps family burrow, and Finnick stood there, waiting for him. Behind the little tan fox stood an older rabbit. Nick had met the guy back at the rebel camp. It was the same rabbit who opened the door for him.

They stared at one another for a while. Nick broke the stare first, lowered his head, snorted, nodded his head. He turned to the buck rabbit.

“Hey, Dalton.”

“It’s good to see you again, Nick,” said Dalton.

“How’d you find me?” said Nick. He turned to look out into the wheatgrass fields. The blades of green shuddered, stiff in the breeze.

Finnick looked at his partner, Dalton, and then back at Nick. “One of ours found you working out in these fields a couple days ago. We’ve got eyes everywhere, you know.” He stuck his paws into his pockets, used his tongue to wriggle a piece of today’s lunch out from between his teeth. “Wasn’t easy though. I thought I lost you for good this time.”

The taller fox snorted again. “Oh, yeah. That was sort of the plan, pal.”

Finnick didn’t say anything in response for a while, just sighed in that deep, syrupy thrum of his. After a while, Nick had to turn and look at him, just to make sure the smaller fox was still standing there.

“There’s going to come a time, Nick,” said Finnick, “when you’re going to need us. You’re going to come begging for our help, and we’re going to give it to you.”

“Is that supposed to convince me to go back with you?”

Finnick looked up at Nick, looked like he was going to say something. Maybe shoot a venomous comment back; make it like the good old days. But Dalton placed a paw on the shorter fox’s shoulder. Finnick’s face softened, he turned to the rabbit.

“It’s getting late,” said Dalton, his paw not having moved.

Finnick sighed, closed his eyes and nodded. He clasped his own paw over Dalton’s. He looked back at Nick.

“I’m not here to convince you of nothing. Just know that, when we help you, and we will, you’re back on the team. You’re going to have to stop playing your own game, and start playing ours. That’s all I wanted to say. You’re hard to get a hold of you know.” Finnick smiled, Nick did not. “You’re always with those rabbits these days.”

Nick stood there, shivering in the wind as he watched them walk away. He tossed his cigarette butt on the dirt path, stomped it out, and started back for the burrow, paws in his pockets.

_Bastards, bastards,_ he thought _._

…

Down on that little Bunnyburrow farm, in the dead of night, a mother sat on her front porch, bouncing her son up and down on her knee. The fat little bunny, with sunken eyes, stared back at her as she stared at him, and when she stared at him she saw a heavenly ring of moonlight halo his head. Crickets whirred in the farmland before them, and they were the only other being’s privy to the secret conversation.

They sat quietly as a red fox opened the burrow door and went inside.

“You’re shaking, Mama,” said Charlie.

“Ooo, I know- I know…” Bonnie cooed. She pressed her forehead against the forehead of the little rabbit.

She played with his arms a little, he let her. She pinched at his arm pits, moved the limbs around, just like she did when he was a newborn. They moved just fine and he didn’t flinch. He opened and closed his paws. She rubbed his fingers. He was healthy. Why did he look so sick? She brushed the wild fur at the top of his head down. Tried to rub the white powder off his cheeks, only to discovered that his fur had only whitened there. She pressed a paw against that damned collar.

“I love you, Charlie. You know that, right?”

Charlie bit at his cheek, anxious. He smiled, she pretended not to notice the tears welling up in his eyes, like heavy droplets growing on farm grass. Droplets that he used to study with rapt fascination back when peaceful mornings were a thing.

“No, I love _you,_ Mama.”

She choked, steadied herself, bounced him a little more vigorously. She smiled, turned away, sobbed, shook her head. “No, I love _you,”_ she said.

“Well, I love you _more_.”

She gasped, almost caught her own scream. Almost. All that was left of it was a shrill piping. It rang out into the night. He didn’t hear it, or you wouldn’t have thought he’d heard it by the look of his face, by the way his sunken eyes shined brightly back at her. She pressed her chin over his head, rocked with him. “No, I love _you_ more.”

“I love you to the moon and back!” said Charlie. He tugged at his mother’s white blouse, smiling like a little maniac.

“I love you even more than that!” said Bonnie, who knew she was going absolutely and violently insane.

They stayed out there for a little while longer, Bonnie crying horribly, Charlie trying not to. She only carried him in when she remembered he would need to get up early tomorrow morning. They needed time to get his chubby body him into his little suit somehow, something she didn’t think she’d be doing until prom night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super late update, I’ve been up in my state capital this last week for lobby visits. Super tired, but we’re back to the normal schedule from here on out until further notice!
> 
> If you’re still reading, consider dropping me a review! Hearing from you all really keeps me motivated, and lord knows I need the motivation sometimes, haha.
> 
> Hope to see you all again soon!
> 
> Oh, and like, also, today’s totally the one-year anniversary of this fic. Like, what the heck is that all about?

**Author's Note:**

> So that’s it. The first chapter to the project I’ve been working on these last few weeks has finally seen the light of day. I know I said it would be out “soon” quite some time ago, but I’ve come to find that “soon” is a very nebulous term. Everything has been extremely hectic, and I rarely had a chance to sit down and really edit this behemoth. Most days, I would turn on my computer, look at the word file, and decide I just wasn’t ready to tango with this particular beast today. On the days I decided I was up for it, I would usually end up editing large portions, sometimes taking out entire scenes because I felt they were perfunctory or trashy or, dare I say it, cheesy.  
> But it’s here now!
> 
> Between the multiple sites I publish my work upon, I’ve received so many lovely reviews and pm’s from those willing to read my garbage, and I wanted to make sure whatever I put out was of a decent quality. Regardless of whether I just wrote 11k words of utter garbage or pieced together a neat little story, I think the form you see it in now is as good as it is going to get. I do believe that it’s only up from here, and any future chapters will (hopefully) be even better, but to ensure that, I need you all to tell me what you thought! Did you like it? Hate it? Would you like to see more? Tell me all about it, I’d love to talk to you!
> 
> The next chapter might be out sometime within the next few weeks. In fact, though I don’t want to make any promises I’m unable to follow through on, I’d like to have it on its way come the end of next week.
> 
> Just don’t quote me on that.


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